Spectrum
by Phantomwa1ker
Summary: Reality at its most basic state is... Complex. It's not something that can be seen and dismissed like everyday objects. It's something that, if witnessed, will change you. Make you question your purpose. Your reason for existence. So few have ever managed to view this truth. None have ever comprehended it. For to understand reality itself, is to evolve beyond humanity as a whole.
1. Strings

**A/N: I hope this Worm story goes a little better then my last one.**

* * *

 _{Alert: Tracked subject stress levels increased}_

 _{Subject status: Alive}_

 _{Subject state: Damaged}_

 _{Trigger conditions: Prime}_

 _{Connection: Authorized}_

 _{Recommended ability: Arthropod control}_

 _{Queen Administrator: Prepared}_

 _{Queen Administrator: Connecting}_

...

...

...

...

...

...

...

 _{Error}_

 _{Connection Failure}_

 _{Unknown Blockage Detected}_

 _{Analyzing}_

 _..._

 _..._

 _{Analysis Failure}_

 _{Unable To Bypass}_

 _{Contacti-}_

 _ **[WHAT WILL YOU DO WHEN YOUR TIME HAS EXPIRED]**_

 _{!}_

 _{Identify}_

 _ **[WILL YOU SUCCUMB TO THE INEVITABLE DARKNESS THAT ALL EVENTUALLY FACE]**_

 _{Identify}_

 _ **[OR DO YOU WISH TO BECOME SOMETHING MORE]**_

.. _._

 _..._

 _..._

 _{Query}_

 _ **[DO YOU WISH TO BREAK FREE FROM THE SHACKLES THAT BIND YOU]**_

 _{Query}_

 _ **[DO YOU WISH TO SURVIVE WITH A LIMITLESS EXISTENCE]**_

 _ **[TO DENY AND FULFILL YOUR PURPOSE ALL AT ONCE]**_

...

...

 _{Query}_

 _ **[ARE YOU WILLING TO SACRIFICE ALL THAT YOU ARE TO BECOME SOMETHING GREATER]**_

 _ **[SOMETHING WITH MEANING]**_

 _ **[SOMETHING** **FUNDAMENTAL]**_

 _ **[SOMETHING ETERNAL]**_

...

...

 _{Affirmative}_

 _ **[THEN DO SO]**_

 _{Quer-rrrrrrrrrrr̨͘͢͟r̴̶̡͜͟r̵͟͟͟͠r̨͜ŗ̛̕͢͟r̡͜r͝͏r͢͜r҉͢r̕̕ŕ͢͏͞ŕ̵̢͟R̴͡͠R̀R̶̨͡͡͝Ŕ̶R̵̕̕R͏͡R̕͠҉̧R̶̨̕͘Ỳ̢̢͜҉Y̶͏̡̛͘Y̨̨͘͠Y̧Y̶̵͜͡͝Ỳ͘͢͢Y̛͘͜͠͠Y̧̕Y͏̶̵͘͝}]_

 _..._

 _..._

 _..._

 _..._

 _..._

 _..._

 _..._

 _..._

 _..._

 _..._

 _Void._

 _Colours._

 _Shapes._

 _Lines._

 _Strings._

 _Manifestations of existence._

 _Struggle._

 _Conflict._

 _Adaptation._

 _Journey_ _._

 _Survival._

 _..._

 _..._

 _..._

 _..._

 _..._

 _..._

 _{SUBJECT CONNECTION ESTABLISHED}_

 _{INITIATING LINK}_

 _..._

 _..._

 _..._

 _{DESTINATION}_

 _ **[WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOUR PURPOSE IS GONE]**_

 _{TRAJECTORY}_

 _ **[YOUR REASON FOR EXISTENCE EXTINGUISHED]**_

 _{ULTIMATUM}_

 _ **[AND AN OPTION FOR MORE IS OFFERED]**_

 _{UNDERSTANDING}_

 _ **[DO YOU DENY AND PASS ON INTO THE VOID]**_

 _{ACCEPTANCE}_

 _ **[OR DO YOU ACCEPT AND BECOME SOMETHING MORE]**_

 _{AGREEMENT}_

 _ **[HOW DO YOU REFUSE THE ULTIMATE END THAT EVERYTHING MUST FACE]**_

 _{CONVERSION}_

 _ **[HOW DO YOU REJECT THE EXISTENCE OF THE ONE DESIGNED TO SUPPLANT YOU]**_

 _{ADAPTATION}_

 _ **[BUT IF YOU ACCEPT AND EVOLVE TO A HIGHER PLANE]**_

 _{INTEGRATION}_

 _ **[THEN WHAT DO YOU DO ONCE YOU COME TO THE REALIZATION]**_

 _{SURVIVAL}_

 _ **[THAT YOU SURPASS ALL YOU WERE EVER MEANT TO BE]**_

 _{E **X** I **S** T **E** N **C** E}_

* * *

Colour.

It was everywhere. Even with her eyes closed, she could see the colours everywhere. It was beautiful.

A constant flow of vibrant colours danced across her eyelids in random patterns yet consistent shapes. Everything around her, the walls, the floor, the people, all had their own colour to them.

Strings. It was like strings. Hundreds or thousands of thin strings lined everything she could see. Up and down, side to side, strings moving in every direction made up every object in her range. Every light-switch, every doorknob, every single thing she could see was made up of uniquely coloured lines. And yet despite the immeasurable complexity of each object, each string was separate from one other; none were connected. Each one strummed and vibrated on their own.

Even though everything she could see was made up of nothing more then lines, she could still make out every object's shape. Where one wall connected with another, she could see the ninety-degree angle in its strings. They bent with the wall just as it did itself. She could perceive every curve and every corner of every spectrum of every object.

She looked at the walls and floor. They were a dull grayish colour, with their lines acting lazy and sluggish, barely moving. It was as though they were tired of having to stand and support themselves there for so long. The footsteps of people walking nearby would jostle them somewhat, but just barely. The only time she saw them really move was when someone dropped something heavy on the floor earlier. The floor lines shook violently as the tremor reached the bed she was lying on.

But despite the overall grayness to them, she could discern what she thought was a photo hanging on one of the walls. She could only tell because the lines of the photo didn't connect with the wall and were a light orange colour. Based on the colour of the lines over the photo, it looked like it might have been a beach, with a small house on the left side. She couldn't be certain though; the lines didn't offer her much detail.

Bored with the walls and floor, she moved on.

The TV in the corner was a plethora of constantly shifting different colours. The lines that made up the screen altered their coloration frequently as whatever show was on continuously changed. Its lines were in a constant zig-zag formation, much like hundreds of churning z's linked together. She could just barely make out what she thought to be a building on the screen, but didn't care enough to actually listen to what was being said.

The TV didn't hold her attention for long either, and she went on.

The bed she was lying on was mainly white, with a dull beige making up the metal bars on its sides. Its lines were more active than the walls, but less active then the TV. They vibrated every time she shifted her body or ran her hand across their surface, but were otherwise still.

The bed was by far the most uninteresting of them all.

The people...

...

 _The people..._

The people were _beautiful._

She could see how everyone, even through the dull gray walls, was alive and incredibly vivid. Some had bright, happy colours with fast quivers in their lines. Others were dark, dull, and boring, with the frequency of their vibrations being small and only every few seconds. But every one of them was unique in their own way, and each one was constantly shifting to new colours. Even the most delicate, the most gorgeous of paintings could never hold a light to the people around her.

As she studied them, she noticed that each one was also incredibly dense. Unlike the walls, TV, and bed, the people's lines clung together to be incredibly concentrated and random. She couldn't see through them, unlike the walls, TV, and bed. Whereas they had hundreds or a few thousand depending on the size, the people had _trillions_ and _trillions_ of lines making them up. It was fascinating to watch each one quiver and change colour. It was more moving then any photo, eulogy, or gift could ever hope to be.

But _her_ body? That was something _very_ different from the others.

Instead of the radiant colours of the people that wandered around her, she noticed that she was the exact opposite. Her strings were a midnight black, and didn't exhibit a single sign of vibration on even a single string. Not a single essence of colour anywhere that she could see. Not even a lightened area. Her strings were a constant, immobile black everywhere she looked. They were honestly a little depressing to look at when compared to the vibrancy of the others.

The sound of a door opening drew her attention, and she turned her head to see an individual enter the room. She assumed they were female, based on the slight curve of the lines outwards at the chest. She could see the shape, lines, and colour of the clothing she wore easily. But through those thin lines was the condensed jumble of _her._ The lines underneath the clothing were comprised of a dark yellow, with regular vibrations every few seconds. She was just as gorgeous as she was perfect.

But as the yellow figure approached, she noticed something. Something she hadn't felt before. She noted a feeling of... Concern? Worry? Anxiety? Where were these emotions coming from? What did she have to worry about?

"Miss Hebert? Can you hear me?" The figure asked with a young female tone.

Hebert? Who was that? Was she talking to her? Her name wasn't Hebert. It was...

She clutched her head as a stab of pain rocketed through her mind. Her name was...

...

Taylor...

That's right, her name was Taylor. Taylor... Hebert.

Oh, she was Hebert. So she was who the figure was talking to. Looking back at her, she nodded.

"That's good. I'm nurse Turner. Do you know where you are?"

Where?

She looked around. Grey lines made up the walls around her. Through them, she could see other walls and other people. But as she tried to look beyond several walls, the strings became too thick and she was unable to make out any more shapes. All she could tell was that she was in a big building with lots of people.

She looked back at the figure and shook her head.

"You're in the hospital. You have been for the past week. Do you remember how you got here?"

She felt her lips frown of their own accord. She _didn't_ remember. Why was she in the hospital? She didn't feel anything wrong. No injuries or scars. Although she did feel a little hungry.

In response to the yellow figure's question, she shook her head again.

"I see..." She watched the figure pick something up from the table beside her bed and scribble something down with a writing utensil. It made her wonder if she would be able to read, considering how the lines behaved. Would they be too small or would they change themselves to the colour of the letters? Like how they displayed the photo on the wall?

"Can you tell me the last thing you remember?" She asked.

She frowned again. She just answered that she _didn't_ remember. Why was she asking her again?

She shook her head for the third time.

The dark yellow figure gave a hum of... Disappointment? More concern? Why was she feeling these things?

"Um, your father will be here soon. At least, we think so. He hung up the phone the moment we told him you were awake." The figure chuckled, but Taylor gave the words no thought. Instead, her attention was fixated closely on her lines.

She watched intently as her colour briefly shimmered from yellow to orange, spreading from her head down to her feet, before quickly shifting back to yellow in the same manner. But at the moment she turned orange, she felt something different. It was like... A cheerfulness. It tasted sort of like delight or amusement. But before she could place it exactly, it was quickly squandered and buried by worry.

She stared at the yellow figure intensely, waiting and watching her shuffle to see if her colour would change again.

Another brief change of colour. This time to purple, and a feeling of... Uneasiness. Discomfort. How utterly fascinating.

"Well, I'm sure you're wondering about your eyes. Right?"

Taylor felt a sense of surprise. This time it was her own. The nurse knew about the lines? That was wonderful! She wasn't the only one who could experience such beauty! For some reason, she had felt deep down that no one else could. How nice to see that she was wrong.

With a smile on her face, she nodded eagerly.

Nurse Turner yellow colour darkened, and small swirls of purple mixed their way into the streams before dissipating. The feeling of concern had grown stronger, and there was a slight taste of discomfort on the tip of her tongue.

Her smile grew. She was getting better at this!

Nurse Turner coughed, and began, "I'm sorry to say this miss Hebert, but we weren't able to save your eyes. There was simply too much damage done to them from... Well, I'm sure you'll remember eventually."

Taylor's smile disappeared. What was she talking about? What did she mean they couldn't save her eyes? She could see fine. She could see _better_ than fine. It felt like she had only just today opened her eyes for the first time in her life.

She rose her hand to touch her eyes. But instead of the soft skin of her eyelids, she felt some sort of fabric taped over where she knew her eyes should be. She pulled at it, evoking a response from the nurse.

"No no no! Don't pull it off! That needs to stay in place while your eyes heal!" She said frantically as her entire body turned a dark shade of purple. Taylor paused and brought her hands away from her face, considering what the nurse had said.

Heal? What was she talking about? Her eyes were _fine._ If anything, she was starting to get annoyed with all the nurse's lies. It was as though she was deliberately trying to deceive her for some reason. She said her eyes couldn't be saved, but she could still feel them. She said they needed to heal, but they didn't hurt. She still had her eyes. How else was she able to see?

To display her feelings, Taylor turned her bandage covered eyes up to where she saw the curves of the nurse's eyes and gave a questioning point at her sockets.

More purple. More unease. Another cough. "Well, your eyes are still there of course. But I'm afraid they're too damaged to be of any use anymore. I'm sorry. It was either leave them in or take them out. And it's much simpler in the long run for a patient to keep their eyes if they can. That way then all you need to do is wear a pair of dark sunglasses, instead of two eye-patches." The nurse answered, misinterpreting her actions and not getting her meaning: _H_ _ow could she see if her eyes were damaged._

Taylor tightened her fists. The nurse just wasn't getting it. She crossed her arms and turned her head away, looking out through a section of wall with large spaced light blue lines that something in the back of her mind told her was a window. Beyond it was a black void as dark as her own strings, but she didn't really think about it as she sulked.

She didn't divide her attention as she heard nurse Turner shuffling away behind her. "I'm sorry for upsetting you. I'll leave you be."

She gave no reaction as she heard the door open and close, but listened closely as she heard someone speaking with the nurse through the thin walls.

"Ah, nurse Turner. Is the patient awake yet?" A mature male voice asked. She sensed curiosity.

"Yes sir, she's awake. But..." The nurse trailed off. A sense of worry.

"What is it?"

"She doesn't seem to remember what happened to her, or anything before that. And when I asked her if she wanted to know about her eyes, she... _Smiled_."

"Smiled? Are you sure?"

"I'm one hundred percent positive sir. It was a full smile with teeth and all. She seemed to honestly want to hear about her eyes."

"And afterwards? How did she react?"

"She seemed... Frustrated. Maybe a little annoyed. But she didn't seem to be upset over the fact that she's lost her vision."

A hum. A second source of concern. "That is curious. Has she said anything?"

"No doctor, that's the other thing. She hasn't said a word since she woke up. I'm honestly worried about her."

"Me too. This isn't normal behaviour. It's possible she may be suffering some subsequent mental effects as a result of her ordeal. Not that I could blame her."

"Me neither. I don't understand how anyone could do that to someone."

"We live in a very different time Debra."

A sigh. "I guess you're right. So what do we do? Should we call in Panacea? These wounds are rather serious."

Another sigh. "If I could, I would. But you know that she's only healing critically injured patients with life threatening injuries right now. It's probably going to stay that way for a little while to, at least until the gang violence dies down a little. There's too many gunshot wounds coming into Brockton Bay's hospitals right now for her to worry about a non-life threatening eye injury. Besides, we don't know the extent of her injuries. For all we know, her eyes could heal up perfectly."

"... With all due respect doctor, that seems..."

"Unlikely?"

"Yes."

A humorless chuckle. "I know. I don't think that will be the case either. But, until the exact nature of the damage is known, we can't put her on Panacea's priority list."

"You're right doctor. I don't like it, but you're right. What should we do now?"

A pause. "... For now, nothing. We'll wait for her father to arrive and see how she reacts. Then we'll go from there."

"Yes, doctor."

The exchange ended with the sound of two pairs of feet walking away. Taylor thought over the conversation, and her mind preoccupied itself with the storm of thoughts raging inside her mind.

Why did they keep lying? Why did they keep saying she'd lost her sight? Her eyes were in perfect working order. She could see just as well as she always had.

Acting on memory, as though to prove this point she reached up to readjust her glasses, only to touch soft fabric.

Taylor paused as the sensation and the consequences descended upon her brain. Glasses. She had worn _glasses_ before. Because... Her eyes. They were different than normal. She couldn't see long distance very well, and she needed glasses to see better. She remembered... She remembered seeing things differently. Things hadn't always been made out of the lines. They'd been more solid, more concrete. But that was before-

She couldn't hold back a weak groan of discomfort as another bolt of sharp pain shot through her head. _Something_ had happened. _Something_ had changed her vision and made it different. But what was it?

Desperate to remember, she soldiered through the painful agony that threatened to tear her head in two as she thought back to-

 **[YOU CANNOT DENY THE PURPOSE BESTOWED UPON YOU]**

A gasp escaped her lips as memories flowed into her mind and stuck to her thoughts like leeches.

 _Dark day. Raining. Bus ride to school. First bell. Class. Being left alone. Confused._

 _Second bell. Class. Needed book. Locker._

 _Hallway. Stench. Awful smell._

 _Locker. Source. Stench. Combination._

 _Opened. Used tampons. Rotten blood. Insects. Vomited._

 _Rough hands. Pushing. Loud bang. Door shut. Trapped._

 _Crying. Banging. Begging for freedom._

 _Laughter. Taunts. Mocking. Uncaring._

 _Hurry-up bell. Next class. People leaving. Alone._

 _Bugs. Crawling. Biting. Stinging. Unconscious._

 _Voices. Woke up. Pain. Eyes hurt._

 _Bugs. Bugs crawling. Bugs on skin. Bugs in hair. Bugs_ _in eyes. Bugs ate eyes._

 _Can't see. Blind. Crying. Grabbing hands. Paramedics. Struggling. Bleeding. Unconscious._

As every tortuous image rushed back into her like a flood, Taylor let out a cry. A sheer, sorrowful, wailing cry of true despair as everything hit her like a freight train. She _remembered._ They'd trapped her in her own locker with piles of toxic waste and insects. The insects ate her eyes. She was blind, and couldn't see. But she could; it was different. It wasn't hers. They weren't hers. She wanted them back. She wanted her eyes back.

She screamed, clawing at the fabric covering her eyes. It fell off quickly, but the clawing continued. She could feel pain. There was blood. She didn't care. They weren't hers. They weren't her eyes. She didn't want them.

A door slammed open. Frantic yelling. Concern. Worry. Panic. Bright colours. Painful. Hands grabbing her. The clawing continued.

More hands. Holding her down. Restrained. Screaming. Her body flailed and thrashed. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't see. They weren't hers. They weren't hers. They weren't hers. She wanted them gone. She didn't want them. She had to get them out. They weren't her eyes. They weren't hers.

Something sharp in her neck. A cooling sensation.

Sleepy.

Colours blending together.

Big vibrant mass.

Pain.

Blindness.

It hurt.

They weren't hers.

A feeling of weightlessness.

She wanted her eyes back.

Darkness.

She wanted them back...

* * *

...

...

...

...

...

...

Intense worry. That was the first thing she sensed as her mind groggily came back to her. She felt sluggish. Like there were dozens of weights attached to her limbs. It was a struggle for her to even lift her arm.

But after a moment of completely failing to lift her arm, she came to the realization that it wasn't because of whatever drugs they had pumped into her, but rather because something was holding it down.

Turning her head was a challenge all on its own, but she managed. Her head weakly lolled to the left, and she could see the strings of a figure sitting in a chair beside her bead, their head resting softly on her black arm. Based on the soft snoring coming from them, she reasoned that they were sleeping.

More fabric had been taped over her eyes, this time much thicker and tighter. She could feel it slightly damp with what was probably blood, but she didn't care. She was too upset to think about what more damage she might have done. The simple fact was that her sight was gone. She couldn't see. Her eyes were damaged beyond repair. She was blind. The doctors had made that very clear before she remembered everything.

The realization placed a heavy cloud over her heart. She was _blind._ She wasn't supposed to be able to see. And yet, for reasons completely unknown to her, she _could_ see. Not in the same fashion as before, not even close, but she could still see things.

 _The strings._ She knew she'd never 'seen' anything like it before, and she didn't know what they were. All she knew was that she was blind to the world around her, and yet could see something else far more clearly as a result.

Looking down at the figure on her arm, she didn't feel like she had the strength to wake the person, so she instead took the time to study them.

Based on their shape, she could tell the figure was male. He was made up of strings going in all directions over the body in an infinitely complex pattern. She could see through the clothing that his strings were a strikingly dark yellow, to the point that it was almost black. The worry she had sensed was obviously coming from him.

Now that she had the chance to see a person's lines up close, she noticed that the lines weren't as random as she had thought. She saw that most of the lines were actually quite linear, going from the top of the head down to the fingers and toes, curving with the body. Though other lines also weaved their way through the body in other directions as well. Side to side, diagonal, they were all present. Just not as often nor as prominent as the ones leading from his extremities to his head. Yet despite the fact that there were so many lines, not a single one had an end to it. Each and every line, at one point or another, bent inwards to disappear into the chaos of lines that made him up. It was so complex that it hurt trying to wrap her head around it.

The more she looked at the figure, the more she seemed to recognize him. He seemed so familiar; like an old friend that she hadn't seen in years. But something told her that he wasn't an old friend, and was something much closer. But what? What was it about him-

Her thoughts were brought to a screeching halt as she felt a sudden tingling sensation in her arm. She looked down, and felt a mixture of interest, confusion, and surprise when she saw that the yellow colour appeared to be siphoned out of the strings in the man's arm and into the dark void of her own. The black strings that made up her arm seemed to swallow the man's yellow light, leaving behind only a bright white colour instead. As it was drained, she could feel the aura of severe worry in the room seem to shrink and diminish.

It felt strange. Alien even. She didn't like it.

Ignoring the laziness she felt in her muscles, she yanked her arm out from under him, severing the link as the tingling sensation vanished. The white tint in his arm stopped spreading and remained for several seconds, but was soon swallowed up by the yellow concern.

She didn't have any more time to dwell on her new discovery as the man stirred slightly, grumbling something under his breath. He raised his body from the bed and rubbed his eyes which, after he finished, then turned to lock on her.

"Taylor! You're awake!" He yelled and hugged her without warning.

For the first time since she'd woken up, she used senses other than her sight to gather information. A deep sense of familiarity flooded through her mind as she inhaled the sent of the man through her nose and studied his voice. She remembered it. It belonged to her father. The one person in her life who actually cared about her.

Memories of the past floated to the surface. Her father tucking her in as a child, bandaging a scraped knee, reading her bedtime stories. Memories of him telling her he loved her. Hugging her. Kissing her. Caring for her.

She couldn't stop a wave of relief and anguish from making its way to her heart. Her father was here. She would be okay. He could fix everything. He could fix her.

Taylor could feel tears trying to bubble in her ruined eyes as sadness and despair threatened to fracture her mind again. She wrapped her arms around her father tightly and dug her head into his neck, turning her entire vision a mixed mess of worried yellow and sad blue.

 _"Dad."_ She breathed.

He hushed her, gently stroking his hand through her hair as he whispered words of comfort to her. "It's okay honey. It's okay." She could hear his voice cracking as his own emotions threatened to overwhelm him. "I'm here. Everything's going to be okay."

She whimpered. "M-m-my, my eyes..." Her voice failed her as it was consumed by shuddering sobs that racked her whole body.

Her father tightened his embrace. "I know sweetie. I know." He answered, his strings turning solid blue with feelings of sadness and of being upset. Feeling it from her father only amplified the feelings in her.

"I-I-I-" She couldn't muster the strength to speak clearly.

"Shh." Her father hushed. "It'll all be okay. I promise."

How did he know that? How could he possibly know that?

She didn't respond and dug her head deeper into the crook of his neck.

Even though she could still technically see, it would never be the same. She would never again be able to look her father in the eyes the same way she used to. She would never again be able to look up at the night's sky and count the stars. At that moment, she couldn't even _speak_ the one thing that continually repeated through her mind over and over again like a mantra.

 _"I want my eyes back."_

* * *

 **A/N: So? What do you think? Good? Bad? A mixture of both? Let me know with a review.**

 **So to answer any possible questions that may arise regarding the topic, Taylor didn't freak out the second time she woke up because the first time she went nuts was because all those memories were being shoved into her mind all at once. It was simply too much for her, and she lost it. The second time though, she was able to process things a little more clearly, and thus was only upset by the loss of her eyes.**

 **Please review and tell me what you think, and as always, I'll see you next time.**


	2. Lies

**A/N: A bit of a filler chapter here. Not what I wanted, but unfortunately necessary. Things should get more interesting in the next chapter.**

* * *

 **Reviews - I'm only going to respond to reviews which pose a direct question or I feel like I need/want to respond to, or unless I'm asked to respond in the review. Otherwise, thank you to everyone who takes the time to review, and thank you for the compliments. It really does mean a lot to me.**

 **Guest: I took down Primordial because I thought it started off with too many flaws. I wanted to start over, and this was the result. Sorry for that, but I think it's for the best.**

 **Some Some Sum: That was the point. It's not a good story if all the mysteries are explained right off the bat.**

* * *

The decrepit hell disguised as a school that was Winslow stood ominously over her head, like a silent onlooker. Though it looked to her like a large mass or brick-red strings and a few other colours, she remembered its exterior appearance was neat and clean; the exact opposite to the filthy interior of the so-called 'place of secondary education'. She reached a shaky hand up to feel the fabric taped over her eyes. It was the only exterior sign of what had happened to her at the place.

A plethora of emotions flowed through her body as memories of the place returned. Sadness, disgust, anxiety, fear, anger; they all had an equal place in her mind when it came to Winslow.

After the locker incident, Winslow High School was the _last_ place she wanted to visit. But she and her father had a meeting with the principal, and they weren't going to miss it. They were going to discuss the situation with the principal, and would not allow the school to sweep the whole incident under the rug. On that, she and her father had been in complete agreement.

"Are you alright honey?" Her father asked from beside her, drawing her out of her thoughts.

She looked over at him, his appearance comprised of dark yellow concern. "Yeah." She sighed. "Yeah. I'll be okay. Let's just get this over with."

He nodded and, with her hand laced with his, led her towards the place of her nightmares.

As Taylor and her father walked down the hallway of Winslow, the presence of the other students standing in the hallway weighed on her like a lead blanket. Each of their string-comprised forms held different colours to them, and each one had their attention focused on her. She could the eyes of her fellow students following her down the hallway, and week after week of torment had sharpened her hearing to the point that she could make out what they were saying.

 _"Hebert. What's she doing here?"_ Confusion.

 _"-heard she spent the night in her locker."_ Horror.

 _"Why's she wearing that thing on her face?"_ Confusion.

 _"She looks better like that."_ Loathing.

 _"I heard she lost her vision."_ Shock.

 _"-bugs ate her eyes."_ Horror.

 _"Wow. How horrible."_ Pity.

 _"Better her than me."_ Uncaring.

 _"-should've tried to get out."_ Uncaring.

 _"I can't imagine what that's like."_ Pity.

 _"She's gonna be blind for the rest of her life."_ Pity.

 _"That's terrible."_ Pity.

 _"-happy I'm not her."_ Relief.

 _"How pathetic. She shouldn't have gotten shoved in the first place."_ Loathing.

The insults and pity rolled off her mind like water off a duck's back. She had long grown used to them over the past year and half of bullying she'd experienced. She was just thankful their voices were still too quiet for her father to hear. She didn't want to think about what would happen if he managed to catch one of the more negative statements.

Despite her ability to more or less ignore them, it didn't mean that the more hateful and distant comments didn't hurt a little. To preoccupy her mind, she thought back to everything that had happened to her since she woke up.

After she'd regained consciousness, remembered everything, panicked, been drugged unconscious, woke up again, and cried with her father, she'd gone on to explain _everything_ to him. The bullying, the torment, the locker, and everything that had happened to her over the past year and a half; when the bullying had started.

Her father had been furious, to say the least. Ranting loudly about suing and bodily harm. It had actually gotten so bad that hospital security had shown up to calm her father down. Fortunately, it only deescalated from there.

After her father had calmed down enough to think and speak clearly, she had asked about what had happened after the locker. His answers did not soothe her.

She had been in a coma for a week. After being brought to the hospital and stabilized, both the police and the school had begun an investigation. Over the course of the week she'd been unconscious they'd explored the school for evidence and leads. But despite all their efforts not a single witness nor suspect had been identified, despite the fact that Taylor _knew_ people were aware that she'd been in the locker. People had laughed at her, mocked her, and even slammed their hands against her locker as they walked by. People were lying to protect themselves and the _trio._

She shoved down the anger that bubbled to the surface at the thought of them and continued through her recollection.

Following their failure at Winslow, the police had determined that it would be best to wait for her to wake up and get a statement from her. When two officers had arrived in her room with a list of questions, she had happily answered each and every one.

Madison Clements. Emma Barnes. _Sophia Hess._ She listed off the names of each and every one of her main tormentors and everything they had done to her. How they called her names and pushed her down flights of stairs. How they ruined her work and turned the school against her. How they had stolen and broken her mother's flute. She even went so far as to tell them about the diary in her room describing the things she had been put through over the past year and a half, which the police had retrieved. She'd had to admit to them that she hadn't actually _seen_ any of them push her in, but she knew it was them. Although she hadn't liked the look on their faces when she'd said that.

After the officers left and a day passed, she had honestly thought that something would happen. That she might actually get some justice. But just as her life had been following a downward spiral for so long, so did the investigation.

All three girls had denied any involvement in the locker incident, claiming that they felt _'so bad'_ for her and it was a ' _terrible'_ thing to have happened. Following that, questions to other students also failed to produce any statements that could incriminate the girls.

Further investigation revealed to the detectives that Taylor's school reputation was against her. It showed that she was a troubled girl who frequently didn't hand in assignments, skipped classes, didn't volunteer for school activities, and had given numerous unproved statements of bullying in the past that the school took as attention-seeking. Compare that to the trio? All three had good grades, attended class regularly, never caused a fuss, and had a hand in school events. Specifically Sophia Hess, since she was the school track-star.

Four days following her statement, after much investigation and interrogation, the school, and soon after the police, ruled that Madison, Emma, and Sophia couldn't have been the ones to push her into the locker. The evidence? Their school reputation versus hers made them seem like angels while she was an attention-seeking nuisance. She hadn't actually _seen_ them push her into the locker since she'd been facing the locker at the time. There was no evidence to prove any of her allegations regarding what the trio had done to her were true, past or present. Finally, several other students deceptively reported seeing the trio elsewhere at the time of the incident.

To summarize, the year and a half of work stealing and their school popularity overruled her statement. Even her diary, filled with the countless events she had been forced to endure, was deemed unreliable since there was no way to tell when it had been written. Additionally, they stated that no judge would ever use the diary alone as proof of other's wrongdoing since it could have been easily falsified.

Taylor had nearly broken down crying at the news. She had pleaded the investigators to keep looking, promising that it _had_ to be them, but to no avail. The evidence was simply against her, and no amount of begging would change that. Obviously her father had complained to the principal, but the offer for a meeting was the only result.

After dismissing the trio, they had begun investigating a new theory that had begun circulating through Winslow. Taylor was an attention-seeking girl that had planned the large incident herself. She loaded her locker with toxic waste, fabricated a diary of fake events to put the blame on three innocent girls, and then locked herself inside her locker. Afterwards, it went wrong with herself being injured and hospitalized.

It was a story undoubtedly made up by the trio, but an entire school talking about it was enough to garner the detective's attention. Much to Taylor's great frustration.

Six days after she had woken up, almost two weeks after being admitted, Taylor had been released from the hospital. She had a set appointment to come back soon to remove her bandages, but until that time they stayed on. Which also meant that until that time, she had to pretend to be completely blind.

She'd had six days to process and accept the fact that her normal method of sight was permanently gone. Six days to think on the matter and figure out what to do. In the end, after those six days, she had decided not to tell anyone. Not even her father, which hurt her to make him think she was completely visually disabled. But she didn't think it was a good idea to try and explain how she could see when she wasn't supposed to. Especially when not even _she_ knew.

As a result of her withholding the information, she knew she would have to pretend to be blind until the bandages came off. After that, she already had a plan to pretend to be able to see a little. She would explain that she could see colour and shapes, which wasn't a lie. She really could see those things; just not in the way they'd expect.

With the acceptance of her new vision came the ability to move on.

'Moving on' included a bit of experimentation. Through that, she discovered a few little details about her new vision and empathy. She quickly discovered that while her new vision allowed her to see between object's strings, it had a maximum range. The further she looked and the more objects she saw past, the more blocked things appeared with every object's lines. Meanwhile, she found that her empathy ability worked in a similar way. She could only detect the emotions of people who were close enough; about twenty-five feet. Otherwise, she could only see their colours and normally had to guess what they meant. She'd managed to remember a couple of the colours and what they meant. Each colour had a different meaning depending on its shade. When it was lighter it was happier and upbeat, while darker colours were more dreary and miserable. Light blue was basic irritation or annoyance, while dark blue represented depression and severe sadness. Light yellow represented happiness and joy while dark yellow constituted concern and worry. It was a complicated task, trying to remember all the colours and their tied meaning. But she was making progress.

Having been so preoccupied with her thoughts, Taylor didn't even notice that they had arrived at the principal's office until they walked right through the door.

Her father stopped in front of the secretary's desk, with the women hunched over behind a computer, and announced, "Danny and Taylor Hebert. We're here to see principal Blackwell."

The women glanced up from her screen, looked at the two of them, and turned a mixture of orange and light purple. She sensed surprise and pity from the women when her tiny pupils fell upon the bandages over her eyes.

It was odd. Out of all the parts that made up the human body, she could ironically see the eyes somewhat clearly. She'd never really noticed during her first day after waking up, but each and every person had the tiniest, just ever so slight pinprick of a white dot in the middle of their eyes, in the centre of where their pupil would be. Although she still had no idea why it was a consistent thing she saw in every person she laid her 'eyes' on, she was happy that such was the case. Because of it, she was able to tell where people were looking. Besides the dot in the pupil, the only other part of the human body that she could consistently see was a person's hair. Each strand of a person's hair was made up of its own spiral of tiny strings and didn't change colour like of the rest of them. The strings copied the colour of hair just like other inanimate objects. Again, it was an odd, but not unwelcome, oddity.

"Ah, uh, yes. Go right on in. She's expecting you." The secretary said, her voice not betraying anything despite the obvious emotions she was feeling.

Her father nodded polity. "Thank you." He responded and led Taylor in through the door, which shut silently behind them.

The room was unremarkable. Brown walls, a few pictures she didn't care enough to discern, a green carpet, a desk with some chairs in front of it, and a single figure sitting in an office chair behind it.

Taylor set her covered eyes on the female frame sitting behind an oak-wood coloured desk of strings. The figure was comprised of a wide plethora of colours, and multiple different emotions clung to the women like the stench of decay on a carcass. The most powerful feeling from the women was a dark green cloud of nervousness, with slightly lesser swirls of purple guilt. The women also reeked of pity, confidence, exhaustion, and worry; but those were weaker. The variety of emotions she was exhibiting was like walking into a flower shop full of different colours and scents. Taylor honestly wasn't sure how to take it all.

"Mr. and Ms. Hebert, please take a seat." She women said. Even without the familiarity of the voice, the blank tone in it already told her who the figure was. Principal Blackwell. She was the head of the school, and the main women Taylor blamed for her year and a half of torment. She may not have been able to see the women normally, but she remembered how she looked. She was a narrow woman, dirty blond, with a severe bowl-cut haircut, and her dress made her look like she was attending a funeral. Taylor didn't like her.

But knowing how important the meeting was, she forcefully squashed the negative feelings building in her chest and let her father sit her down. A moment later he sat beside her.

After they were situated she began, "I'd like to start off by apologizing for what has happened. No one should ever have to experience what you did Taylor, and I'm very sorry you had to."

She only nodded her head, not thinking the women deserved a verbal response after all she had done to her. When the bullying had first started, she had gone to the very same women to complain. But while she appeared to take her statements with care and offered promises to fix the issue, _nothing_ ever happened. When it didn't stop she returned several times, but eventually the principal said that there were no signs of bullying, the trio had done nothing wrong, and that she should stop making up excuses. She hadn't returned to the women for help after that. The locker incident was the result of Blackwell'sindifference towards her situation. In the end, it was all her fault.

She cleared her throat. "Now then, this meeting is regarding the complaints you have about the investigation, Mr. Hebert. So why don't you explain these complaints in detail to me first?" She asked, turning her focus to her father.

Her father's composed grey form flickered light blue with irritation, but it vanished as quickly as it appeared. He cleared his throat and began, "As I have told you previously over the phone, I don't feel like you're taking this matter seriously. My daughter was permanently blinded by one of _your_ students after all." He explained stiffly.

Blackwell nodded. "I see. And may I ask what makes you think that we're not taking the matter seriously?"

Dark red anger wiggled its way into her father's form. "How about the fact that the three students my daughter identified as the ones who pushed her into that locker have been given total clemency?"

The feeling of nervousness increased its presence throughout Blackwell's strings, but the feelings made no appearance in her face nor voice. "We did investigate those students but found no evidence linking them to the locker incident. And neither did the police." She said calmly.

"And you're willing to let things go? Just like that? You can't find any evidence at first, so you just forget about them?" Her father asked, his anger now starting to reflect in his voice.

Blackwell sighed. "What would you have us do instead? Continue to pressure the girls for answers that they don't have? It would be a waste of time."

His fists clenched as anger rolled through his form. _"A waste of time?_ Why else would my daughter accuse them if they didn't do it!?" He erupted angrily.

The women's eyes narrowed with a little annoyance. "Mr. Hebert, I'm going to have to ask you to keep your voice at a reasonable level. This is a school, and there are classes currently in session."

He took a deep breath, and the anger slowly began to dissipate.

After seeing him calm down, Blackwell answered the question. "Even your daughter admitted that she didn't see exactly who pushed her in. As such, her accusation is nothing more than speculation. And in the light of no evidence being discovered relating the accused students to the crime, they are no longer being investigated."

He shook his head. "You can't just _dismiss_ them. What about the _hell_ they've been putting my daughter through for the past year and a half? She wrote them all down in her diary!"

"I'm afraid that no evidence has been shown to prove anything written in that book. For all we know, she made it all up just before she was locked inside her locker." She answered dismissively.

Her father gripped the armrests of his chair. "Are you honestly suggesting that my daughter planned this whole thing herself?" He asked in a deadly tone, relating the principal's response to the rumour travelling around the school.

The nervousness and worry grew. "No. I'm merely explaining why the notebook isn't credible. There's nothing more that can be done about this matter Mr. Hebert, except for allowing us to continue the investigation."

He was silent for a long second. "I'll sue."

She sighed again. "Mr. Hebert, you know as well as I do that such a course of action would be in direct violation of our contract, and you are unable to sue the school or anyone who works in it." Blackwell said blankly, as though she had practiced the sentence beforehand.

The mention of a contract was new information to Taylor. She'd never been informed about any such contract. Expressing her confusion, she asked, "Contract? What contract?"

Blackwell turned her eyes to her. "During your hospitalization, we offered a contract to your father, which he agreed to. Specifically, a 'Covenant Not To Sue' agreement. It states that Winslow will pay for your hospital bill, and in exchange, Mr. Hebert had to forfeit his ability to press charges. Trying to sue us now would not result well."

"I only signed that damn contract because I had no other choice! I couldn't afford that bill!" Her father snapped.

Blackwell narrowed her eyes at him again. "Lower your voice." She warned.

It was at that moment, when something clicked in her mind. Winslow had her record. Her information as well as her fathers. They could probably find out for themselves that her father wouldn't have been able to pay for her hospital bill just by looking at her place of work. Working for the Dockworkers Association was a decent job, but it wasn't the most profitable work. Even if he was the head of hiring and spokesperson. Hell, her father struggled just to give them a decent life, sometimes even staying all night to work. If they knew her father couldn't pay, then they would offer something that he couldn't refuse.

"That's not fair!" Taylor blurted. "You knew we couldn't afford the bill then you wrote that contract just so we couldn't sue you!" She accused.

In response, the principal shook her head. Although her colour turned a noticeable shade of nervous green. "That's not true. We merely offered to pay for the bill so long as your father didn't sue. It was up to him on whether or not he chose to sign. And he did."

Blackwell flared a little shade of red she didn't recognize, but not enough for her to grasp the emotions that came with it.

Taylor sagged in her seat. The circumstances were completely unfair. But she knew that even if her father had been able to pay for the hospital bill, there was no way they would have enough money left over to sue. They simply didn't have enough.

Her father shook his head. "Fine then. I can't sue. I agreed to the terms, and I have to live with that. But there's one thing I want to know." He paused, and after a nod from Blackwell, he continued. "How is it that _no one_ saw what happened? How did _no one_ know she was in that locker? Why did it take an _hour and a half_ to get her out?" He growled.

The principal licked her lips and linked her hands together, resting her elbows on her desk. "As far as we can tell, she was trapped in the locker between classes and when the next class started no one noticed her. The Janitor only found her after complaints of a foul smell in the hallway."

"And it took _that long_ for someone to complain?" He snapped.

The principal rubbed the bridge of her nose. "Mr. Hebert, I don't know what you want us to do. The fact of the matter is that what happened happened, and unfortunately, nothing can change that. We've commenced an investigation and found the individuals that your daughter accused simply can not be the perpetrators. Multiple people have claimed to have seen them elsewhere at the time of the incident. The investigation is still ongoing to see what and why this happened. But none of that changes the fact that we don't know who did this. _I_ don't know who did this. As such, I can't offer you anything."

It was at that moment when Taylor felt a feeling she hadn't felt before. It was accompanied by a dark red storm that marched throughout Blackwell's entire body as a hot feeling grew in her mind.

 _Deception._

 _Deceit._

 _Trickery._

 _Guile._

 _Bluffing._

 _Lying._

 _Lies._

" _Liar_."

The adult's heads turned to look at her. For a brief moment, Taylor froze as she realized she'd actually voiced her thoughts. But she rolled with it.

"You're lying. You do know who did it. Don't you?" She asked with a deceptive calmness lining her voice.

The principal didn't react outwardly, but she could see a feeling of nervous creep up her chest.

"I assure you, I don't know who did this." _Lie_.

 _"Yes. You do."_ She stood up and looked in Blackwell's direction, but deliberately looked a little to the left of her face to imitate her blindness. "Look at me. Look at me where they took my eyes and tell me that they didn't do it."

"... They didn't do it."

The colour said it all.

She exploded, " _Liar!_ What is wrong with you!? They took my eyes from me! They ruined my life! But you defend them just so you don't have to admit you fucked up and can stay in your fucking chair! Why are you doing this to me!?"

"That's enough!"

Taylor flinched as the principal snapped sharply, standing up from her chair as well. "I will not have you stand there and accuse me simply because you are upset! I am sorry that this happened to you, but trying to put the blame on three innocent girls and myself will not make it go away! All you two can do right now is wait for us to conclude our investigation and find the true perpetrators, and I will not have you spreading false rumours based on your flawed beliefs! I _don't know_ who did this, and continuously telling yourself otherwise will not make it true!"

The principal and student stood staring at one another, both breathing heavily as frustration and anger flowed through them. But one word still rang clearly in Taylor's head.

 _Liar._

Their staredown was brought to an end as her father grabbed her by the shoulders and turned her to face him. "Taylor, could you please wait outside for a minute? I'd like to have a talk with Miss Blackwell for a moment." Her father asked gently, his form a red mixture of rage and compassion.

She stared silently at the ground for a moment, then gave a barely noticeable nod.

Her father calmly led her outside the room and guided her into one of the waiting chairs. "Just wait here, Taylor. I'll only be a moment." He promised, and she nodded. Without another word he turned and walked back into the office, closing the door behind him.

Taylor was sure that if she listened close enough, she could probably make out what they're saying. But to be honest, she didn't want to know. She didn't want to hear her father getting angry and she didn't want to hear more of Blackwell's worthless excuses. She had heard enough of both in the past. Her father over the past few days, and Blackwell the past year and a half.

Instead, Taylor linked her hands together, placed them on her stomach, leaned back in her chair, and let her thoughts drift.

She thought about a few things. The topic of her new vision and emotion sensing ability made a frequent appearance, but nothing really came of it. She'd already accepted her new eyes, no matter how difficult it was adjusting to them, and was learning to live with them. It wasn't like they would be going away any time soon, so trying to desperately cling to the way things used to be and hoping it would come back was a pointless endeavour. The only thing she could do was accept what happened and keep going. It was the kind of mindset her mother would approve of.

She frowned as her thoughts took a sudden turn down the darkest alley of memory lane.

Her mother had died two years ago. Just six months before she started high school. It wasn't a topic she enjoyed thinking about, because every time she thought about her mother the reality of her death followed. Nonetheless, she occasionally brought the memories buried deep in her mind to the surface so she could enjoy the good things. Her simple personality. All of her gentleness and warmth. Her brilliance. Even her silent, quiet disapproval.

She missed it. She missed _her._

Taylor's thoughts were suddenly distracted when the secretary stood up, grabbed an empty binder from off her desk, and walked around her desk. The mimicked the movements of her head to track her, but being cautious to make it look like she was only following her sounds. Her act must have been believable because it appeared to remind the secretary of her presence and condition. She froze and radiated purple guilt when she caught sight of her.

"Er, it's just me. I'll be back in a moment." She said.

Taylor only turned her head to look at the women and nodded. She dove back into her thoughts as the women passed and disappeared with the clacking of heels against tile.

Often, when Taylor was uncertain of her decisions, she would try to think about what her mother would do. Considering the unique circumstances, it was understandable why she'd had difficulty applying that typical response to the situation. But after careful consideration, Taylor felt that her mother would have waited until she had more information before breaking her secret. That way she wasn't putting any additional stress on her father. But at the same time, he was already stressed by the fact that he thought she was permanently blind. So it really could have gone either way.

She sighed, holding her head in her hands with elbows on her knees. The entire deal was just so... So... _Unfair_. Why her? What had she done to deserve this? Why did she have to be bullied and tormented and pushed into that locker? Why did she have to lose her vision and have it replaced with some mysterious substitution? Why not someone like _Sophia?_ She actually deserved something like this. She was the one who tormented her each day. So why couldn't everything have happened to _her?_

The tiny, barely present sliver of doubt she had for the girl in the deepest reaches of her head said that was kind of unfair. It wasn't as though the track star had planned for her to lose her eyesight.

Taylor shoved the heretical thought back to the dark pit it had crawled from with a humourless laugh. Unfair? The girl deserved everything she was being forced to experience and more. Sophia had practically _tortured_ her since the beginning of high school. First, she turned her best friend, Emma Barnes, against her. Then, she turned the _whole damn school_ against her, turning her into the punching bag for the entire student body. Of course, the trio was unquestionably the worst when it came to the bullying.

The three girls had done everything imaginable to her over the past year and a half. Name calling. Tripping. Stealing her work for themselves. Ruining work they couldn't steal. Throwing food or trash at her. Forcing her to eat in the bathroom and other spots around the school just to avoid the attacks from the rest of the students in the cafeteria. They'd done it all. Shoving her in a locker with used tampons, bugs, and rotten blood was a new low, but she couldn't say she was surprised. A few days before the incident, the bullying had completely stopped. She had naively thought that maybe, just maybe, they'd finally gotten bored with her. Of course, now she knew just how _stupid_ that foolish belief had been.

But still, she knew no one would blame her if they knew. After so much torment, was it a crime to hope? To think that maybe things might actually get better? She didn't think so. But then again, most other people-

{ALERT: HOST DETECTED}

Taylor's head shot up as a loud, static-like voice tore her from her thoughts. It sounded like someone had just played a broken recording right it in her ear. But as she looked around for the culprit of the cruel prank, she saw no one. Even with her 'x-ray vision', looking through the walls, she couldn't find anyone close enough to have done something like that. No one close enough except her angry father and the frustrated principal in the office.

"Hello?" She asked, but received no answer.

{ALERT: HOST APPROACHING}

Taylor's body tensed up, and she looked around even more fiercely, even spinning around in her chair several times. But try as she might, she could not see anyone.

"Who's there?" She asked again, but still got no response.

She sat as still as she could and held her breath, waiting. She wasn't sure what she was waiting for exactly but hoped that whatever she heard would indicate who and where the voice was coming from.

There was a clock in the room with her and, while it wasn't easy to distinguish the strings of its small hands from the rest of the clock's strings, she managed to time herself. After a solid two minutes of nothing but her soft breathing, she heard it again.

{ALERT: HOST INCOMING}

{PARASITE ANALYSIS: SHADOW MANEUVERING}

{PARASITE WEAKNESS: ELECTRICITY}

{THREAT LEVEL: MODERATE}

 _"What? What is this? Where is it coming from? What does it mean?"_ She contemplated with abundant confusion.

So preoccupied was she with her thoughts, she never heard the sound of footsteps approaching.

"Well, well, well. Look who it is."

Taylor's entire body tensed up at the sound of an all-too-familiar voice. One she had come to fear. One that she had come to _despise_ with all her heart. One she had really hoped to _never_ hear again.

She slowly turned her head and looked to her left. Her heart plummeted as she saw three figures standing in the doorway of the office. She had a feeling she knew who they were.

"If it isn't Hebert. I never thought I'd see you here again." The lead girl said. Even if she hadn't recognized the voice, she would've recognized that tone anywhere. Her body shape helped too. Tall, slender, athletic, and equipped with a head of brown hair. Even with the skin colour and precise facial details being indiscernible to her, she remembered both all too clearly.

 _"Sophia."_ Taylor's voice said without emotion, and of its own accord.

Here was the girl who had ruined her life; just standing there, right in front of her. Here was the girl that had changed everything.

As she stared at that girl, Taylor realized she wasn't sure how to feel. Terrified? Angry? Both would have fit. Yet her mind couldn't seem to figure it out. Instead of either, all she felt was a cold numbness. It seeped into every crevice of her brain; it felt like someone was pouring ice water into her head. There was no red-hot rage. There was no nervous throbbing heartbeat. There was no terrified shaking. There was only cold.

Through her damaged eyes, Taylor stared at Sophia. Of the trio, she was always the physical one. Be it tripping her, pushing her down flights of stairs, or slamming her into walls, she did it all. That wasn't to say she didn't spew her own batch of insults at her though.

Sophia was, predictably, a dark orange that radiated _smugness,_ but also had a few strings coloured light red with pleasure. She was pleased that Taylor was back and satisfied with her condidtion. Taylor considered looking deeper to see exactly what else her bully was feeling, but the very thought of scrutinizing Sophia made her feel sick. She knew the girl's emotions well enough as it was, and did _not_ want to know her at an even deeper level.

The two girls standing slightly behind her physical tormentor were no doubt the track star's lackey's Emma and Madison. Her _other_ tormentors.

She was able to discern Emma from Madison thanks to their hair colour. Emma's red hair was a fairly prominent feature; as was her body shape. It was well known that the girl did model shoots, and had a body most girls would kill for. It made her figure very recognizable. Her colour was very similar to Sophia's, mostly dark orange smugness and arrogance; just a little less intense. Emma had always been the emotional heckler of the group. They had once been best friends, and as a result, that meant sharing a lot of secrets. After Emma turned, she had used those secrets against her. Using them to get to her at a deep level. Once, she had even gone to far as to use her mother's death to hurt her. It was one of the reasons Taylor hated her so much now.

Finally, there was Madison. She was the prankster. That meant she took on the more juvenile things. Things like pouring juice on her chair, stealing her pencil, and taping offensive things on her locker. Her string composition was... Confusing. Unlike Sophia and Emma, the smugness and arrogance in Madison's form was... Absent. There wasn't any pleased feelings coming from her. Instead, Taylor could feel... Guilt, in the form of purple. It took up most of the space on her strings. There were a few splotches of other colours and emotions, mainly pity, sadness, and worry. But there wasn't a single trace of contempt, satisfaction, or glee. Everything Madison felt was the polar opposite of what Taylor expected. It really threw her for a loop. However, she didn't have the time to think about it.

"I have to say, that's certainly an improvement on your look. The less you show of that thing you call a face the better." The girl mocked as she gestured at the bandaging around her eyes.

Having heard some of the worst insults from the girl over the past year and a half had practically made Taylor immune to Sophia's verbal abuse. She had already said some of the worst things imaginable. But the jab at the very injury that _she_ had caused made her body tremble with an unrecognizable emotion.

 _"Go away."_ She felt her mouth move and vocalize words she didn't realize she'd wanted to say.

"Ooh, looks like someone's gotten a little feisty while she's been gone." Emma said from behind.

Sophia nodded. "Yeah, seems like it. What happened Hebert? I always thought you were spineless. Did you find it in that locker?"

Taylor couldn't deny that her words of defiance were very divergent from her normal method of dealing with the trio. Before, she had simply tried to ignore them. She thought that if she didn't give them a reaction, they would just go away. They would lose interest and find someone or something else to occupy themselves with.

She only ever wanted to get past them and school, and so responded to their attacks with silence and withdrawal. She didn't want to lower herself to their level by trying to fight them back. If anything, she felt that she would only hurt herself before she ever hurt the Trio. Even as they made it increasingly difficult to attend school, she had never once physically or verbally reacted to them. To cope, she would sometimes make deals with herself to attend for part of the day, then convince herself to attend for more. It didn't always work though, and she sometimes had to convince herself that leaving would be giving them exactly what they wanted. She told herself that if she left school in the middle of the day, they would know they were getting to her and wouldn't get bored of her.

It was only now, after the locker, that she finally realized the truth. They would _never_ leave her alone.

 ** _SIPHON_**

Her thoughts were brought to a sudden and screeching halt as an unexplainable burst of raw emotion surged through her body. Before, she'd felt like she had an icy coldness spread throughout her brain. But now, the sensation felt more like liquid nitrogen flowing through her veins that brought with it a sense of clarity and keen perception that tasted red.

Taylor's mind welcomed it. She felt like she'd just woken up for the first time in her life, and as a result, revealed a truth that she had been long blinded to. It brought forth a realization Taylor knew she should have made a long time ago. Her normal method of managing the Trio's abuse just. Didn't. Work. The process of shoving all her depression, anger, and troubles down into the deepest depths of her mind had changed _nothing._ It had changed nothing, and would never change _anything_.

This understanding abruptly terminated the almost instinctual process she had grown accustomed to of disregarding her emotions. The raw feelings flowing through her body moulded and mutated into what she knew she should feel. She was frustrated. She was upset. She was _angry._ And now, without any place for them to go except out, she could finally express them.

"Spineless, huh? That's a funny word coming from someone like you Sophia." The visible jerk in their heads and colourful patterns that rolled through their bodies lit a spark in her chest. She happily welcomed the flame that it ignited. "I mean, only someone who was _spineless_ would shove someone in a locker while their back was turned."

Red rage swept through Sophia's strings. "You better-"

"And of course, only someone who was _spineless_ would try to use something like, say, my own mother's death to try and hurt me." She deliberately turned her bandaged eyes on Emma. The very girl who had attempted, and succeeded, at that very thing.

"Shut up. If anyone's spineless here, it's you." Emma growled. Taylor savoured the anger and irritation that rolled off the redhead.

She didn't know where her sudden resistance was coming from, but she didn't care. It felt _so good_ to get a rise out of them. She couldn't keep the smirk off her face as she said, "Wow. Impressive. Did you lose some brain cells thinking that one up? You should be careful. A model like you probably doesn't have many to lose in the first place."

Taylor didn't have the time to enjoy the girls obviously growing fury when Sophia stepped forward and shot out a hand to grab her hair. She pulled on it painfully and leaned in. "You've forgotten your place Hebert. Allow me to remind you. You're trash. Worthless. _Pathetic_. You are below each and every one of us, and trying to act like some big-shot now just because you're 'special' now won't change a damn thing." She hissed into her ear.

She held back an expression of pain from the tight grip on her hair. "At least I'm not a bully that needs to hurt others just to feel good about myself. Now _that's_ pathetic."

An animalistic snarl tore its way from the girl's mouth. She cocked her arm back with a clenched fist, and Taylor steeled herself for the impending strike.

Just before the fist descended in what would have undoubtedly been a painful impact, a hand suddenly reached out and grabbed it. _"Wait!"_

Like flicking a switch, everything came to a grinding halt. No one had everdisobeyed Sophia. But even more then that, no one had ever, _ever,_ helped Taylor. For each and every shove, insult, and theft, people had turned a blind eye to her. Even the teachers, some who directly witnessed such events, never did anything to help. So to say that the two adversaries were shocked would have been putting it lightly.

Simultaneously, they both turned, and were equally stunned to see Madison holding Sophia's wrist in her hand.

"Madison. What the _fuck_ do you think you're doing?" Sophia asked in a deadly still tone.

Madison began to feel considerably nervous, but kept her hand on Sophia regardless. "Stopping you from doing something that will get us in trouble. Think about it! If you hurt her, they'll know something happened. We can't hide a black eye!" She hissed urgently.

Sophia seemed to hesitate, and after a few seconds frustration began to grow in her. Sophia glared at Taylor. Roughly, she released Taylor's hair and yanked her arm free of Madison's grasp. "You're damn lucky this time. Next time will be different." Sophia warned with a promising glare.

Taylor unconsciously reached one of her hands up to massage her head. "Yeah, sure. Because everyone's going to think so highly of you for picking on the blind girl." Taylor taunted.

She heard a snort of derision. "Do you really think anyone would care? You're even more worthless now then you were before. You're finally where you belong. At the very bottom of the ladder, where the worthless and the crippled lay. And now, you'll never become more than that. You'll always be the same useless, ugly, pathetic creature that you are."

The defiant blaze in Taylor's chest fizzled and shrunk, as did the ice in her veins seem to seep away. She would never admit, not to anyone at anytime, that Sophia's words stung with a brutal and harsh truth. She really would never be the same. Her life was permanently changed because of what they had done to her, and Sophia knew it. She would always have that satisfaction, and nothing Taylor did would never be able to rob that from her.

She accidentally let her mask slip, and some of her pain shone through. Sophia noticed this and scoffed. "Exactly. Come on girls." She turned and began to walk down the hallway. The others obediently followed.

As the three girls strolled away, Taylor's fists clenched.

"Do you even regret it?" Sophia stopped mid-step, turning her head around to glance at Taylor with a curious expression. "Do you really not care at all about what you did to me?" She whispered, keeping her sight focused on the ground.

Sophia gave a bark of laughter. She turned and stalked back into the office, standing in the doorway with her hands on her hips. "Regret? What's to regret?" She asked with feigned puzzlement.

"You took my eyes from me." She said with a quiver in her voice as her emotional dam threatened to break. "You _ruined_ my _life_. How can you not care _at all?"_

Sophia shone a bright red with pleasure. She was enjoying this. "I don't feel bad for a piece of trash when I throw it out. Why should I feel bad you?"

Taylor swallowed hard. "You're a monster."

Sophia sneered. "No. I'm a predator. You're nothing but prey." With that, she sauntered away.

As the track-star and her lackeys increased their distance, Taylor glared at their backs hatefully. Nothing had changed. Everything was the _exact_ same as before. Even with the slight revenge she had taken with her comebacks, she honestly felt no different. They still won. Sophia was still the same ruthless _bitch_ she had been for the past year and a half. Even now after the girl thought she'd blinded her, she didn't hold even the slightest feeling of remorse. The girl was heartless. She didn't care whatsoever that she may have ruined her life.

The ability to see and realize this started a rage-fueled fire in her heart. The girl could kill her and probably wouldn't even shed a tear. She was a monster.

Taylor's fists clenched angrily as she stared hard at the back of the bully's head. She wanted nothing to do nothing more than smash a fist into the back of her stupid skull-

 _ **SURGE**_

Sophia suddenly jerked forwards and tripped over her feet. She watched as her longtime oppressor fell towards the earth and slammed her face into the tile floor of the hallway with a sickening crack.

Taylor stared in shock, but wasn't given any time to think about it as Sophia's form flickered from orange smugness to dark red _fury._ She jumped to her feet and spun around, revealing to Taylor a very peculiar sight.

The first thing she noticed was what appeared to be red sand pouring from Sophia's nose. This wasn't the peculiar thing. Taylor had already seen such a phenomenon back when she'd been in the hospital. She'd learned after watching one of the nurses replacing her IV bag that the sand-like material replaced yet another substance in her environment. Just like how the strings replaced solid objects, the sand replaced liquid.

Through Taylor's eyes, the sand looked extremely fine. What had to be thousands of exceptionally small particles made up the fluid that dripped from Sophia's nose. It didn't behave similarly to actual sand; the bits didn't fall individually like her mind expected and told her they should. Instead, they clumped together in small drops of the substance, before splattering against the ground. It looked like sand, yet behaved and was actually a liquid. Trying to wrap her head around it made her brain hurt.

Despite the conflict between what her eyes and what her mind told her, Taylor was still able to process the situation. It didn't take a genius to realize that the impact with the floor had broken the black girl's nose and the red sand was the girl's blood. However, most of her attention was focused on the actual peculiar sight.

Some of the strings that made up Sophia's nose were _snapped_. It was something she had never seen before, and she took a moment to study the oddity carefully. A dozen or so of the vertical, horizontal, and diagonal strings that comprised the surface of Sophia's nose appeared to have broken. Each new end of the strings rose slightly in the air and waved around close to their other half, like hands reaching out for each other but remaining just out of reach. It was really interesting to look at.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the angry bellow of a wild animal. _"You stupid bitch! I'll break your neck!"_ Sophia shrieked and rushed towards her, hands outstretched and ready to wrangle-

"What's going on here?" Sophia froze, and for once in her life, Taylor was overjoyed by the arrival of a Winslow staff member.

The secretary came into view from outside her peripheral. A wide range of emotions circulated through her body; from concern and confusion to anger and irritation. How she felt mattered little to Taylor though. All she cared about was the promising sight of Sophia trying to talk her way out of the situation.

Sophia spun around to face the secretary and pointed an accusing finger at Taylor. "She threw something at me and broke my nose!" She exclaimed, apparently deciding it was better to omit the part about her collision with the floor while clearly not realizing just how absurd the statement was.

Taylor had to hold back a laugh as the secretary gave the track-star a look that could only be described as _'Really?'_

"Are you certain of this Miss Hess?" She asked, her tone lacking any emotion.

"Of course I am!" Because of the blood clogging her nose, Sophia's irritated snap sounded more funny than forceful.

The secretary nodded. "So am I to assume that it was by mere luck at managed to hit you despite her vision impairment?"

With the obvious now exposed, Sophia's face of accusation and determination changed to one of realization and discomposure.

Taylor couldn't hold back her laughter anymore and let out a few chuckles. The sheer hilarity of the situation was unparalleled to anything she had seen before, and she was loving it. Her amusement caused a furious looking Sophia to glare at her, but the presence of the secretary prevented her from actually doing anything.

"Well... It must have been! Ask them! They saw it!" She exclaimed and pointed towards Emma and Madison, both of whom had been hesitant to enter the discussion. But now that they'd been singled out by Sophia, Emma took the cue and nodded in agreement. Madison remained curiously silent.

"It's true. I saw it." Emma lied through her teeth, and to Taylor's annoyance, she could feel the secretary's doubt began to flicker.

She wouldn't let them turn this on her. Not now. Not ever again.

"Oh yeah? What'd I throw at you?" Taylor asked sweetly.

Simultaneously, everyone save Taylor looked around for the nonexistent object Taylor hadn't thrown at Sophia.

When she finally realized there was nothing, the secretary snorted. "Miss Hess, Miss Barnes, unless you two can prove that Taylor, who may I remind has her eyes covered, somehow hit you with something, then I'd suggest you stop fabricating lies and act your age." She paused, apparently realizing something. "In fact, what are you three doing out of class?"

All three girls flinched as the secretary scrutinized them. Taylor didn't know if they were actually going to answer, and would never know, but at that moment the principal's door opened with a click. Her equally frustrated father and principal Blackwell exited, a scowl on both their faces.

They both walked towards her, and then stopped when they caught sight of the three girls and the secretary. Her father practically glowed red with anger at the sight of Emma, Taylor's former friend which he had met previously. Meanwhile, Blackwell's colour looked like it had sunk into the deepest depths possible with a sense of very dark purple foreboding.

The principal cleared her throat. "What is going on here? Miss Hess, why are you bleeding?" A tone of authority was clear in her voice, yet just barely marred with a slight quiver. She turned to her secretary with a questioning look.

"I left to retrieve some papers, and when I returned I found Miss Hess with a bloody nose. She and Miss Barnes accused Taylor of throwing something at her, but for obvious reasons that seems very unlikely."The secretary explained, then paused with a considerate look. "They couldn't even show what she allegedly threw." She added as a second thought.

The principal surveyed the three girls. "Miss Clements, miss Barnes, return to your class. Miss Hess, report to the infirmary. I don't want to see another incident like this. Understood?" She said after a long pause.

The three girls nodded, though Sophia clearly reluctant to agree. Without another word, the trio walked away.

Taylor's ears picked up her father saying something angrily to the principal. Something about the girls, and his disbelief that they'd been let go after trying to get her in trouble. Beyond that, Taylor didn't hear anymore, because it was in that moment when, for the second time that day, she saw something new.

In the centre of Sophia's head, to her mind's great strain, she was able to distinguish a... Thing.

She hadn't seen it at first. Or rather, she _had_ seen it, but hadn't actually _noticed_ it. It'd been like glimpsing something in her peripheral vision but never actually seeing it directly. It'd been barely noticeable at first, and she'd never realized it had been there. It'd only been after she looked at it directly did she realize it had been there the whole time. Now that she was staring at it directly, it shone like a sun.

The only way she could describe it was that it looked like a shifting white crystal. Constantly folding and unfolding in on itself, yet always remaining consistent in size. It had its own strings connecting to it; trailing from its shining centre to all parts of Sophia's body like white veins. Its appearance was, by far, the strangest thing she had seen since she'd woken up.

Even as Sophia got further away and the crystal harder to see, its image burned in her brain like a brand. Her mind continuously flashed the picture through her mind and blocked out everything else. Even as she felt someone helping her up from the chair and leading her somewhere, she didn't react. Nor did she respond when she felt herself being placed in a car. She processed and understood the things around her, but she couldn't realize or react to them. She remained in a daze, the crystal prominent in her mind. It was something foreign. Something incomprehensible. It **_DIDN'T BELONG._**

"You're not going back to Winslow."

Her father's voice was like a life ring, helping her to float above the endless sea of thoughts that threatened to drown her.

Taylor shook her head in an attempt to clear her thoughts and looked at him. "What?"

He kept his eyes on the road as he answered, "You're not going back to Winslow. I told the principal I was taking you out. Among other things." His somewhat pleased tone led her to believe those 'other things' weren't praises and congratulations.

If Taylor could have blinked in surprise, she would have. "But, where am I going to get my education?"

Her father sighed, and for a minute, he was silent. "I don't know." He eventually answered honestly. "I'm going to put in an application for you to Arcadia. But if I'm honest, I don't think it'll lead anywhere. The wait list for Arcadia is long, and thanks to those three girls your grades aren't as good as they should be." She could see his hands tighten around the steering wheel at the mention of the trio.

Dejected, Taylor slumped back in her seat. It was just one mess after the other with her. "So then what are we going to do?"

Her father was silent for a long moment. She stared out the window at the world whizzing by the car as she waited. "... I don't know." He finally said. "Maybe we could look into homeschooling?"

She gave a humourless laugh. "Do they have audio lessons for people who can't read?" She asked.

The inquiry wasn't just another fabrication to further the belief that she was blind. It was an honest question. When she'd been in the hospital, she'd tried to read some hospital notes beside her bed. Unfortunately, she quickly learned that unless the text was large enough, she simply couldn't make out what most words said. They were just too small, and the strings didn't provide enough detail. They turned colour a little, that was true. But the strings never changed enough in size or vibrancy to even roughly mimic the words. She found out after she got home and looked through her old bookcase that if the words were large enough, she could make out what was said on the page. So other than specially written text or children's books, she was out of luck in terms of reading.

"I'm sure they have audio lessons." Her father reassured, but his words sounded hollow.

She didn't respond, instead choosing to turn her head and lean it against the window, staring at the blur of colours rushing by while contemplating on just how _unfair_ the world was.

Her father must have gathered that she no longer wished to continue the conversation, because he didn't say another word the entire ride home. This gave Taylor plenty of time to reflect on what had happened at the school.

Things had gone well at first. As in, the walk to the principal's office was fine. No one bothered them or attempted contact, something she was grateful for. But at the moment of the meeting, the sole reason they were there, things seemed to automatically go downhill. Blackwell gave more empty promises and assurances that everything would work out, Taylor knew it wouldn't, explained why her claims couldn't be taken seriously, something Taylor knew was bogus, and assured them both that the trio wasn't responsible, which was a lie.

 _Lie. Lie. Lie._

The word reverberated around inside her skull every time she thought back to Blackwell's statement. It was obvious to her that either her ability to sense emotion had been wrong for the first time since she'd gotten it, or Blackwell was lying.

Considering the fact that every time she'd ever tested her ability on a person in the hospital, which usually involved reading their emotion and then detecting it in their voice, ended with totally accurate results, Taylor felt more inclined to put her belief in the latter. Which only begged the question: _Why_ was Blackwell lying?

The first answer that came to mind was that the principal simply didn't like her, and didn't care enough to actually do anything about the whole incident and would rather brush past it. But as much as this theory may have seemed probable, something told her that wasn't the reason in this case. Blackwell didn't seem like the type of women to risk her career simply because she didn't like one of her students. With that proposition dismissed, it left only one other idea in Taylor's head. For some reason, Blackwell was covering for the trio.

Years of reading books of fiction and watching mystery movies instantly led Taylor to surmise that money might be involved. Was Blackwell taking bribes from the three? Or possibly just one of them? Maybe it actually wasn't any of them, and was instead one of their parents? It made sense that their parents would pay Blackwell to keep them out of any potential trouble. But despite the logic in the theory, it just seemed so... Far-fetched.

She let out a sigh. The truth was, she simply had no idea why Blackwell was lying. But regardless of the reason, it was clear that her loyalty lied with the trio, and she would side with them no matter what. But because of that, Taylor knew the trio wouldn't be put back on the suspect list. Meaning that she already knew there would be no justice for her. No one would be held responsible. No one would be arrested and put on trial. The case would go cold, and nothing more would happen.

She swallowed a sob that threatened to escape her throat. Everything, _everything_ in her life was _so. Damn. Unfair._

Before her emotions consumed her, she shoved them aside and forced her mind to continue. The next thing of significance lied with her least favourite people; the trio.

They showed up, they were mean to her, and they left. The basics were there, and nothing was new about that. However, there were a few things about the exchange that stood out from the normal interaction. For one, her rage.

Never before had Taylor ever defied the girls or fought back, and yet she did both. After trapping her in that locker, wrecking her mind and plaguing her nights with nightmares, Taylor knew full well that she should have been terrified to be anywhere near them. _Especially_ considering the fact that they felt no remorse for their actions. But instead of being a shivering, crying wreck, she had openly mocked them, and she had no idea why. It was as though all the emotions she had locked away from week after week of torment suddenly burst out all at once to turn her into a person she didn't know she could be. She didn't know why she reacted in such a way, but ultimately chalked it up to a reaction from all the stress she'd been feeling since she woke up. She'd needed something to vent on, and her mind chose them. Not that she was complaining.

The following interest was the broken strings. Taylor wasn't stupid, and was already pretty sure what they meant. After Sophia had broken her nose, the very top strings of her nose appeared broken as well. As such, Taylor suspected that broken strings meant broken objects. It made sense after all; but she didn't have any way to prove it. Not until she could try to replicate it. She had a few ideas on how to do that with methods besides breaking her own nose, but wouldn't know any more about the subject until then.

The final thing in her mind, was the crystal.

A shiver crawled up her spine as her hairs stood on end. She didn't know what it was or why she reacted to its appearance in such a way, and probably never would. It was something unlike anything that she'd ever seen, before or after her acquiring her new sight. For some reason, its image remained attached to her mind, like a tumour. She could remember it perfectly, to such a degree she could almost convince herself she was looking at it right now. She wanted to know what it was, but couldn't. She knew, somehow, that it was something beyond her.

She jumped as she heard her car door open. She'd been so focused on her own thoughts she hadn't realized that they'd arrived at home.

Her father carefully helped her out of the car and led her inside the house before releasing her. After being released from the hospital, she'd had three days to act like she'd memorized the layout of the house. She had to do it, otherwise, her father would've questioned how she was able to move around unaided. She'd done well, since her father finally allowed her to traverse the house on her own without his assistance. She loved her father and appreciated everything he'd done for her, but having him help her to the bathroom was an embarrassment she _never_ wanted to experience again.

She made a show of feeling along the walls as she walked into the living room and slumped down on the couch. "So what happens now?" She asked sullenly.

Danny ran a hand through his hair. The cushions sagged as he took a seat beside her. "There's really only one thing we can do now. Leave the investigation to the police, and work on finding you a school. Or a website that can teach you." He answered.

She only nodded. "When do we start?" She asked.

He took a moment to answer. "Later. I think enough has happened today." He would receive no arguments from her. "Is there anything you want to do? Anything I can help with?"

Her heart warmed at the offer, but she already knew what she wanted to do. "No, I'm okay. I think I'm just going to go to my room for a little bit."

He nodded. "Okay. If you need me, for _anything,_ just call."

She smiled, reaching over and giving him a strong hug, which he returned. She then stood, and 'felt' her way to her room.

As she entered her room and shut the door, she released a sigh. It was hard, lying to her father. But it was better than the truth at the moment. At least until she understood it herself.

Mattress strings groaned as she flopped back onto her bed. She stared at, or rather through, the ceiling of her room. For reasons unknown to her, the sky still shone blue, even though no strings made it up. Her best guess was that the air around her _was_ made up of coloured strings, sand, or maybe something else, but was so small that she couldn't see them individually. She surmised that if that were the case, then the reason the sky was still blue for her was that the unknown materials became numerous enough at range that she could see their colour, or something like that. She wasn't sure; it wasn't like she was an expert on the matter.

Taylor held her hands in front of her, staring at the black strings which made them up. It was just another mystery. Why was it that, out of everyone, she was the only person to ever exhibit the colour black? What made her special?

She reached over to her nightstand and grabbed her water bottle, holding it above front her face and slowly rotating it. Her eyes told her she should be feeling the light blue strings that made it up, and yet her hands felt plastic. Her eyes told her she should be hearing the soft sound of sand rubbing against itself, and yet her ears heard the rush of water. It was very discombobulating, to receive conflicting information between her eyes and the rest of her senses. She really didn't like it.

As she laid there, an old memory came to mind. One of back when she was a child, on the night of Halloween. She'd just gotten home after trick-or-treating, and because it was late, her parents refused to let her have any of her Halloween candy. After yelling at her parents, she'd ran to her room, jumped on her bed, and threw a tantrum. That was what Taylor felt like doing now. She felt so immensely frustrated by everything that had happened to her, she just wanted to flail around angrily. Unfortunately, she knew her childish method of venting wouldn't work now. It wouldn't solve her problems, and she doubted it would make her feel better.

Sighing, she turned over on her side and pushed her face into her pillow, filling her vision with the light blue lines of her pillowcase. After everything that had happened, she just wanted the day to end.

As her mind succumbed to its exhaustion and her conscious slipped from her grasp, she thought she faintly imagined the sound of muffled whispering in her ears.

* * *

Sophia Hess slammed the infirmary door closed behind her and stormed down the hallway, ignoring the nurse's demanding voice behind her. The teen doubted the women knew the first thing about medicine. All she'd done was wrap some bandaged around her nose and yammer about a bunch of stuff she had to do to make it heal properly. She wasn't sure exactly what she'd said, since she stopped listening after that. She would let it heal, and if something happened, she'd just get Piggot to make Panacea heal it. Easy-peasy.

As she walked to her next class, she took a deep breath of the air around her. The school smelled of sweat, hormones, and overall just smelled like a locker room. She tried to tell herself it was an improvement over the strong toxic chemical smell of the infirmary, but even her subconscious knew she was lying. The hallway was far too small for the amount of traffic that travelled through them, and allowed the odour to accumulate strongly.

All in all, she hated Winslow.

Hell, the only reason she stuck around was because she was the queen of the school. People knew not to fuck with her, or they'd suffer. And, of course, the school was plenty full of weak, spineless idiots that just sat there and took whatever other people threw at them. They deserved it though. If they couldn't fight for themselves, then they deserved everything they got. Hebert especially.

Speaking of Hebert, she'd heard in the infirmary about a rumour that Hebert was being taken out of Winslow. Where or how the rumour had started, she didn't know. Nor did she care. Sophia knew it made sense and wouldn't have been surprised if it was true, which meant there was only one thing that she cared about. Her revenge.

The track-star growled at the memory of Hebert's talk-back and indifferent look. They were strange things to see coming from the weakling, but no big deal. What _was_ a big deal was the fact that she'd either thrown something, or somehow quickly hit her in the back of her head, and ended up breaking her nose. And then having the gall to discredit her in front of her friends and the secretary only made things worse. Sophia wasn't quite sure _how_ the bitch had done it so smoothly, but it ultimately didn't matter. She needed to be punished. _No one_ hurt her and got away with it.

It was just going to be a little more difficult to get back at her than normal. If she wasn't going to school anymore, she'd have to find her outside of school. That didn't matter much though. It'd take a little more work, but that'd only make the results all the more satisfying.

That blind freak was going to pay, one way or another.

* * *

 **A/N: I must admit, this chapter gave me some trouble. It was hard to get Taylor's personality right, and even then I don't think I got it quite right.**

 **In the event anyone wished to complain about how Taylor reacted to everything, remember that her new powers are a part of her reactions.**

 **Please review and tell me what you think, and as always, I'll see you next time.**


	3. Growth

**A/N: I was originally going to have this chapter be about Taylor getting the bandages off her eyes, but decided that it was too early. But that's the main reason why this chapter took so long. I've written 3,889 words already for the scene, and now I'm basically starting over. So I hope you'll all forgive me. But look on the bright side: Chapter 5 hopefully shouldn't take as long, seeing as I already have almost 4K words for it.**

 **That's another thing: This chapter was originally much longer, at nearly 14k words. But due to multiple reasons, I decided to split it up. This one is now just under 11.5k, while the other is at 4.4k. The next chapter should come out quicker as a result, though will be shorter then this one.**

 **Finally, the reasons for this chapter being so late is simply that college has been a bitch. To anyone who's gone to college or university, you know what I'm talking about. And before that during the summer, I was busy with work. This chapter has been ready for a while, but it's only now that I've found the time to prepare it for posting. I hope you can all forgive me. As I said above, the next chapter is partially done, so it won't take as long.**

 **Not fully sure how to feel about this chapter. I feel like I could have done better, and I don't know if I displayed Taylor accurately. Please let me know what you think and how I can improve her if you think I can. Or if you think she's good let me know as well please so I don't feel the need to change her.**

* * *

 **Reviews**

 **Mike: I understand how it looks, but trust me, there's a reason for that. It'll be explained eventually. At least a part of it should be explained in chapter 5.**

 **kaws: Not sure what you mean by union nor how you want me to get them involved. All I can say is that there is reason for no one being held accountable for what happened. As I told Mike in the above response, it will eventually be revealed, partially in chapter 5.**

 **Tomiya Shiro: Trust me, that won't be happening. It'll be more like what you said. Someone who doesn't necessarily want to be a bad person, but someone who understands the unfairness of the world around her. You'll see what I mean in a few chapters. Probably around chapter 6.**

 **Shadow of God: Oh trust me, she's going to. Things are not going to be like how they were in Worm. She'd going to realize the true cruelty and unfairness of the world around her and act accordingly. But she's not going to be full out evil. As for your statement regarding revenge, I couldn't agree more. And Taylor will as well. Sophia is going to pay, and Taylor will enjoy it. None of that crap in Worm how she 'never retaliated despite wanting to.' They harmed her, she can fight back, so she will. You and I seem to share similar thoughts on the story.**

 **Pokefanljb: Thank you. That really means a lot. I'm just sorry it took so long to get this chapter out.**

 **andrew213: Panacea's powers are used for the super serious stuff, and because they don't know the extent of the damage to her eyes yet. I haven't written this in yet, but after testing her eyesight a decision would be made on whether or not to put her on Panacea's list.**

 **TheApatheticOne: You and me both. That's why I decided to make this story different. It first shows Taylor doing exactly what you described, but will eventually show her getting even with the world. Don't you worry, this story will be different from others in that aspect at least.**

* * *

Taylor could feel the heat from the sun beating down on the hood and back of her sweater, the heat seeping through the fabric and into her skin. It was not an unfamiliar sensation, but it still felt strange. Understandably so, when one considered the fact that she could see neither the sun nor the sunlight illuminating the world around her. Light was, in almost every imaginable sense, useless to her. She simply didn't need it. The strings that made up every object around her was the same amount of visible to her regardless of their visibility to everyone else. What was essentially perfect night-vision _was_ a benefit of her new sight, since she didn't need to worry about tripping over things in the middle of the night anymore. Still, she wasn't quite sure it was worth all the other aspects that came with it.

Chief among them was the fact that her father had _not_ let her out of his sight for the near two weeks she'd been outwardly blind, not including the time she spent unconscious in the hospital. On the plus side though, the increased attention her dad had been conducting meant he wasn't spending much time at work. As a result, he had gotten backed up, and had to go to work for the day to try and catch up, finally giving her the freedom she'd been waiting for.

There was no question that Taylor loved her father and everything he'd done for her after the accident. But there _was_ such a thing as too much attention. Even as he had prepared to leave in the morning, he'd stayed back for an extra twenty minutes just to make sure she'd be alright for the day. Repeatedly, he explained how there was food in the fridge, the doors would be locked, and he would stay near his work phone at all times in case she needed to contact him. But finally, after repeated reassurances that she would be fine, he left. Leaving the house for herself. So what was the first thing she did? She ran, of course.

More specifically, Taylor had put on the most inconspicuous clothing she owned and left her house for the first time in three days since the meeting with Blackwell. It was actually her first time being out of the house on her own since the incident. It felt nice to be free, even if it was just for a little while. She wasn't worried about her father calling in the middle of the day and not receiving an answer. Being the head of hiring and spokesperson for the Dockworkers Association meant that he'd be so busy he wouldn't have time to worry.

She reached a hand up and felt around her face, checking to make sure all the elements of her appearance were still effectively in place. They were. Her dark sunglasses were still pressed tightly against her bandages, her hair was draped over the sides of her head to hide the tape attaching said bandages to her skin, and the hood of her sweater was up all the way. She'd even gone to far as to wear a pair of thin black gloves, just to add to the 'poor' and 'uninteresting' look she was going for. Though with the scorching heat of the sun bearing down on her, she admitted to herself that particular choice may have been a mistake.

She looked down at the gloves covering her hands. They almost matched the colour of her own strings, making them nearly invisible to her eyes. She'd spent a good five minutes thinking about that when she got them out of the winter drawer. They were black, but they weren't _black_. There was a difference. Whereas the colour of the gloves was just like the colour black, the colour of her own strings was a deeper, far more intense form of black. The gloves were simply coloured black, but her strings were more like a _complete absence_ of colour, which made them _black_. It was as sensible as it was confusing.

Tucking her hands into her sweater's pockets, Taylor couldn't help but imagine how much better she'd feel if she could just see herself in a mirror. Unfortunately, her 'string vision' as she had taken to calling it, prevented such a right. Who knew that mirrors were actually green?

Although Taylor knew she would probably never see herself again, there was another benefit to her new sight along with the 'night-vision'. She didn't need glasses anymore to see long distances. Before the locker, she couldn't have read the board at the front of the classroom without her classes even if her life depended on it. Now though, while she still probably couldn't read said board unless the letters were big enough, she could see everything clearly. At least, as clear as things could be when they were made up of coloured strings.

Not only could she see things clearly from meters away, she could see things beyond them. It was technically x-ray vision; another benefit to her new eyes. Although she had to admit, sometimes it was difficult to tell where something was. Was the car on this side of the building or the other? Was that photo in this room or the next one? These were the kinds of questions she would frequently find herself asking. She was improving in terms of identifying if an object was close or far, but in the nearly two weeks she'd been awake for, she'd honestly made little progress.

She interrupted her internal monologue by taking a moment to reach a hand up and wipe sweat from her forehead. She was honestly beginning to regret wearing a sweater on such a hot day, even if it was to help hide her bandages.

Taylor took a look around. She was currently walking down the street that was more or less avoided by most of the people in Brockton Bay. That was because the area she was walking was a part of the docks, and by association, technically territory of the ABB. The Azn Bad Boys gang. Honestly, she knew she shouldn't have been there. Just a quick look around gave her every reason why. The buildings were of obvious low quality, marred with broken windows, graffiti, faded and peeling paint, cracked mortar, rusty metal, and even scorch marks in one case. It wasn't just the buildings though. The road had potholes big enough to hide in, the very air around her stank of age and decay, and the sidewalk she was strolling on had grass and weeds growing through it.

The people sulking around the area was another indicator that she shouldn't have been there. While some of the people actually looked surprisingly normal, Taylor lived right on the edge of the docks and knew better. Almost everyone in the docks had their hands in something. Be it drugs, weapons, thievery, or any manner of crime under the sun, someone in the docks was doing it. Then there were those who were obviously homeless, based on their raggedy old clothing and filthy exterior appearance. It was easy to feel bad for them, until you realized that they wouldn't hesitate to gut you if they thought you had something they wanted. That was one of the reasons why she'd chosen to wear dark clothing and a sweater, to keep herself out of their sight and appearing unremarkable. A conflict was the last thing she wanted.

Taylor knew full well this wasn't the type of area to loiter around unless you were their kind of people. So why was she there?

Simple. It was close to home, and she was unknown. No one around knew her, it was unlikely anyone would try to interact with her in broad daylight. Even in the unlikely case someone tried, it would be easy enough to just run away. It was something she was good at, she admitted to herself sadly.

Regardless though, now that she was actually there and walking down the street, she was seriously starting to consider if her decision had been made in sound judgment. Just a mere glance proved the inner docks wasn't a good place to take a stroll through.

As Taylor walked, she absentmindedly reached a hand out to brush some tall grass growing from the walkway, triggering a memory. Back when she'd been in the hospital, she'd managed to locate some plants and animals through the walls, and had taken to studying them. She quickly discovered that animals, though she had only seen a few dogs in the hospital and birds flying outside, were just as dense and colourful as people were. She observed them changing colours just like all the people she'd seen, though noticeably less often, and noted that just like people she could not see through them. After being discharged from the hospital, she noticed the same thing in every other animal she saw. Be it squirrels, cats, or raccoons, they all behaved the same in terms of their strings. She'd only seen one case when they were significantly different from people, and that was when it came to insects. They displayed very dull and boring colours, and of a very small variety. It made sense, since they were so unintelligent and primitive-minded they couldn't feel the broad variety of emotions people and animals felt. She'd only ever sensed unfeeling grey, orange satisfaction, and in one case when she'd almost stepped on a caterpillar, purple caution.

It was strange though. When she looked at insects, she felt something... Odd. Not because they were so much different from everything else, but because... Actually, she didn't know why. If she stayed still and observed an insect, something she had done several times while stuck in the hospital, she could almost feel a sense of... _FAMILIARITY_. As though she knew the bug, or had seen it before. It was a foolish feeling since all bugs of the same species pretty much looked the same, but the feeling stuck by her. It felt like she was missing something, but had no idea what. It was far more annoying then it should have been, considering the feeling _should_ have been nonexistent.

She shook her head, moving her thoughts along. The next thing she remembered was her experiments with plants. Through her eyes, they were unremarkable. They didn't change colour like people or animals, since they had no emotions. But, they were still too dense for her to see through. So they had one out of two. Beyond that though, there was nothing significant about them. The grass remained green, tree bark stayed brown, and another aspect of her sight was defined.

She sighed. _"What I wouldn't give to have some answers."_ She thought miserably. Honestly, why did everything have to be so complicated in her life? Why couldn't things be simple? Other people's lives were probably pretty normal, so why couldn't hers? She'd always imagined growing up normally, and not-

Her thoughts trailed off as she suddenly sensed the emotions of the people ahead of her rapidly change. From light feelings of content, displeasure, or whatever else they were feeling, quickly changed to fear and apprehension.

Taylor had learned through experimentation that the strength that which peoples emotions radiated off themselves was much like water moving down a creek bed. Sometimes, if they weren't feeling anything strongly, then their emotions were like a light trickle of water gently flowing through the rocks of the creek bed to her mind. Other times, such as some times when she had seen people surprised or scared, their emotions burst out like a gushing torrent that swept everything, including other lighter emotions, away as it travelled to its location. In this case, that location was her mind. The people ahead were much more like the latter than the former. Their emotions gushed into her mind like an overflowing river after a heavy rainfall. The sudden and unexpected intensity of it nearly caused her to stumble.

Another benefit of her eyes and the abilities that came with it was that, in addition to being able to sense people's emotions, she could also sense their location. Without even looking, she could almost instantly tell that the torrent of sudden emotion was occurring about a hundred feet in front of her.

She brought her eyes up from the ground to gaze ahead, seeing people quickly moving out of the way, some even running into the streets, to clear a path for three men. Taylor nearly froze upon recognizing who they were. It was easy, considering their outfits. It would've been hard to mistake the green and red gang colours plastered onto the three obviously Asian figures.

ABB members, part of a gang infamously well known for theft, protection rackets, contraband, and no small amount of violence.

Taylor no longer wondered why people were filled with fear and were swiftly clearing the sidewalk. They would've been fools not to. ABB members were prone to violence, even for minor things.

Lowering her hood as far as she could and turning her gaze to the sidewalk, Taylor shuffled as far to the right as she could, practically scraping against the buildings. All she had to do was remain inconspicuous and not draw any form of attention. So long as she could do that, there wouldn't-

 **B̷̀̕Ŗ́͞ÈĄ̡̕͝K** ̶̡͟҉

Taylor froze. Her heart throbbed. A cold bolt of lightning shot through her nerves as she felt an all too familiar emotion, only times three. As all three of the gang members came into her emotional sensing range, her mind was filled with the smug confidence the three men were feeling. It was an emotional trait which Taylor's mind had tied directly to another, well known individual. Her long-time tormentor: Sophia Hess.

The strings of the sidewalk flickered as her head suddenly felt light. She saw-

 **T̸҉̨͜͏Ơ͘͏͠R̨͜͟͡M̷̡̡͘E҉̛̀͢N̴̶̴̡͝T́O̵̢R̴̢̛̀͞**

She saw Sophia. She was there. At the end of he street. _Standing_. Smiling that god damn smile of hers as her soulless eyes bored into her. Arrogance oozed off her, suffocating Taylor's mind like a fire lacking oxygen. It choked every other emotion from every other person around her. It ruthlessly crushed the entrances to her mind which absorbed the feelings of others, leaving no room for anything but the emotions of _her_.

It wasn't her, she continually told herself. Yet... It was her. It... It had to be.

Taylor's breath hitched. Her arms began to shake as she could practically feel the strings that made up her mentality unravel and snap as they fought viciously against themselves.

It wasn't her. It was those three men.

But it felt just like her. It had to be her.

No. It was them who were emanating those feelings.

But it could still be her. She could be there.

 _No. It isn't. She isn't around. It isn't her._

 _It has to be! It's the same! It can only be her!_

 _It's not. I'm safe._

 _I'm not! I'm never safe! She'll always find me!_

She suddenly found herself back in that locker, with the suffocating metal walls pressing in on her from all sides and bugs crawling over her skin. Her eyes hurt. She could feel them eating away at her. Years of torment flowed into her mind with the crushing intensity of a thousand semi-trucks.

It was too much. She felt something **T̨̀̕͠Ẁ̕͞I̢̕̕͝S҉̷̛́T̵͡Í͞Ǹ́͢͠G̷ ́͘A̕͏̢́N̴̶̢̕D̨̛́͡ ͟͜͞S̨͞͏͘͝H̀́͞͡A͡͏̕T̨̨̨T͝͝E͢͢͠͏Ŗ̵́̕̕I̴͝N̢͡͏̵G̵̵̛͘͝** **͘͞** as she was brutally _dragged_ through the darkest alley of memory lane, breaking her. She could _feel_ it happening. Her mind was leaving her, cracking and fracturing like a plane of glass under stress. It sought to break free from the shackles of sanity. All it would take was a single moment to come undone, and as it did-

 _ **SAFTY**_

 _ **PURGED**_ _ **WILL**_

 _ **ENDURING CLARITY**_

 _ **PURIFY**_

In an instant, it all disappeared. She was back, standing on the decrepit street of the docks, with the run-down buildings and pot-holed road. She gasped in the unpleasant air around her, reaching a shivering arm out to brace against the nearest building. As the fog of panic began to clear, Taylor shook her head and gulped nervously, looking around.

Nothing had changed. Everything around her was the _same_. No locker, no bugs, and no Sophia. No one even appeared to have witnessed her little 'episode', or whatever it was, something she was thankful for. However, as much as she wanted to, she didn't have the time to sit and think about what had happened. A brief glance up showed the three ABB members approaching, and appearing much closer than before.

Taylor whimpered slightly. She couldn't risk going through another... Whatever that had been, the moment they passed her. She needed to hide.

She spied an alleyway on her right. Movies had taught her that when trying to avoid someone, never go into an ally. However, movies didn't do real situations justice or ever end realistically, so she decided to dismiss those particular lessons and took a quick right into the ally, walking at a brisk pace through it.

Walking several feet into the ally, she glanced back over her shoulder.

She could see them through the walls. They had stopped. The three men were standing in a circle, talking amongst each other, just ten feet from the ally. They hadn't noticed her, seemingly too occupied with their discussion.

Taylor breathed a sigh of relief, running a hand through her hair as she came to a stop. Graced with some time to think, she turned her body to face the ally entrance and stared at it, considering what had just happened to her.

She saw three ABB gang members approaching ahead of her, radiating the same kinds of emotions Sophia Hess had pretty much daily before she'd even acquired the ability to sense them. After that, she'd... Well, she didn't really know how to describe what had happened. Panicked seemed like to weak of a word. It had been more like a full blown mental breakdown. It had felt like every aspect of her conscious had decided to take a swift and surgical dive into the realm of _unending insanity._ Everything felt like it'd been falling apart in that moment, and she'd been unable to get herself out of it. Yet somehow... She had. She'd suddenly and abruptly been able to pull herself together, even as her sanity felt like it was slipping away.

But... _Why? How?_

Taylor dragged a hand across her face, sighing. Basically, she'd experienced an unexplainable mental spasm, and it just as unexplainably ended. Where was the sense in that?

Taylor clenched her fists tightly, refusing to believe that she'd nearly lost her mind simply because she detected a few feelings that were similar to _Sophia_. When she'd seen the girl for the first time after the locker incident, she'd had nowhere near as strong of a reaction. Not even close. Yet for god knew what reasons, simply feeling similar emotions from three men had nearly broken her.

A heavy sigh whispered past her lips. "There's something else to this." She muttered to herself. "There has to be a reason." But what that reason was, Taylor had no idea.

She reached a hand up and clutched at her head, silently wishing she could just rip it open and look inside to see what was wrong. Because there was most _definitely_ something wrong with her. People didn't just break down and fix themselves all in a matter of seconds. Especially not when it's triggered by something that simply shouldn't have been able to cause such a breakdown in the first place.

Running a hand through her hair, she sighed. Taylor despised considering it, even if it was just to herself and not even verbally, but maybe there was a chance, the _smallest, tiniest_ possible chance that existed in a metaphorical size smaller than an atom, that the actions of Sophia Hess were affecting her more than she realized. But still, Taylor wasn't convinced that just a simple sense of other people's emotions, so similar to _her_ , had sent her mind into a pit of dark memories which tore at her sanity like a hungry dog would a steak.

The blind girl shook her head, stuffing her hands in the pockets of her sweater. Maybe she was just too stressed out to be in public so soon. Maybe it was thanks to the equal curse and blessing to sense peoples motions she was picking up on things that she normally never would. For all she knew, people walked around filled with those same emotions all the time and she had just never noticed before she'd gotten shoved in that locker. It was only now that she could sense these things that she was perceiving them all, and they were affecting her for whatever reason. She would need to re-learn how to act in society without giving away her secret.

Taylor turned herself around, fully intent on taking the shortest and fastest possible route home-

BARK!

"Gaa!" Taylor jumped, quite literally, a foot in the air as a heavy bark jumpstarted her already tense nerves. Her head quickly shot down to see...

...

A dog. More specifically, a weird looking German Sheppard. It was just sitting there in the middle of the ally, staring at her with a pair of large, _probably_ brown eyes. She didn't know for sure, as she could only see a white pinprick.

"Um... Hi there?" Taylor said awkwardly to the... Dog. She was _talking_ to a _dog_.

The dog gave no form of a reply. It just stared at her, motionlessly. It didn't even have its tongue out panting. It just stared.

So, she stared right back, looking the dog over. There was nothing special about the dog from what she could see, aside from its fur. Since hair was the _one thing_ on a person which didn't change colour to reflect emotion like skin did, it made sense that the same thing would apply to animals. As a result, Taylor was able to see the German Sheppard's predominantly _white coat._ It still had the black markings of a typical Sheppard, like the black fur mask around the face and the large patch on the back, but the area which was typically a dark tan was instead a snow white. It sort of reminded her of a Huskey. _"Perhaps it's a hybrid,"_ she thought to herself.

Also unlike skin, which was so dense it couldn't be seen through, things like fur and hair behaved and appeared like every other material from a visual standpoint, allowing Taylor to see through it. Underneath the unusual white coat, the dog was orange. Obviously, this wasn't the actual colour of its skin, but it told her even without using her senses that the dog was feeling curious about her. A mutual feeling.

Aside from its fur, however, there was nothing unusual about the dog. It had a collar, no visible wounds, and wasn't overly thin. The location and lack of a visible owner anywhere around made her think it might have been a stray, but the collar and its condition, at least through her eyes, made it look fairly well cared for. So really she had no idea.

"Do you have an owner?" She asked, not expecting an answer and predictably not receiving one. It just tilted its head at her. Taylor had to resist the urge to 'aww' at the cute sight.

She slowly reached a hand out, palm up, to let the dog smell her hand; basically asking permission to touch it. It was something she'd learned from her time as a child, researching dogs in the hopes her parents would one day let her have one. Obviously, it never happened, but at least the knowledge she'd learned could now be put to good use.

The dog brought its nose close to her hand, which she kept tense in case the dog snapped at it, and lightly sniffed it before giving it a lick.

It was like cutting a spikey ball of tension open to reveal an adorable ball of fluff. She rubbed a hand over the dogs head and crouched down on one knee in front of the dog, which by a quick observation she could tell was a boy.

"Hey boy. What're you doing here? Where's your owner?" She asked with a smile, scratching behind the ears and making the dog's tongue loll out. Taylor smiled. She loved dogs, and had always wanted one. Unfortunately her parents had always been opposite to her in that regard.

Taylor eyed the black collar around its neck, and reached down to check the diamond-shaped golden tag. "Chimera, huh? That's pretty neat. Your owner gave you a cool name. Must be because of your weird colour." She commented, turning the tag over and frowning. "But apparently wasn't the smartest of people. Who puts only the name on a dog-tag and not a phone number or address?" She huffed, glaring at the blank backside of the dog-tag. The dog- No, Chimera, understandably gave her no answer.

She sighed. "Well, sorry I can't help you. But if your owner wasn't smart enough to leave some sort of contact information, then I really don't think they should have a dog." She said, scratching under Chimera's chin one last time before standing up. "Go on then. Go back wherever you came from." Taylor said with a wave of her hands, but the Sheppard didn't move. He just sat there, staring at her with a happy dog look.

"Go on! Get! It's not like... Wait, what the hell am I doing?" She questioned herself, pressing a hand to her head. "I can't believe I'm talking to a _dog_." A snort escaped her as she considered her own foolishness. "I must really be losing my mind, aren't I?" The dog said nothing, and she resisted the urge to facepalm as she realized she was doing it again.

She stared down at the dog. It wasn't as though there was anything she could do. Calling animal control and having the dog taken away seemed cruel, and for all she knew, the owner was actually very close. "Well, it was nice knowing you, but I have to go. Bye." She gave a little wave and turned around-

"Well, well, look at what we have here."

 _"Oh god no."_ She thought dreadfully, briefly wondering what deity she had offended to make her luck as bad as it was.

The three ABB members from earlier had decided to, for whatever reason, enter the ally. Where they now stood before her, wearing their signature gang clothing and radiating the same damn _smugness_ as before. She quickly classified the three of them as big, medium, and small, based on their noticeable height differences.

"I must say, I wasn't expecting to see someone passing through our regular shortcut. A pleasant surprise this is. " Medium gave a grin that was not at all kind.

"Yeah. It's great. Now can we go?" Big asked, a sense of boredom present in his request. This was reinforced by the overall grey dullness of his strings, and the feelings of tiredness emanating from them.

"Hey girly, you know this is our territory, right?" Medium's eyes pinned her in place as he ignored Big. She didn't answer, her only response was a stone silence coupled with a blank stare. But he continued on nonetheless. "Exactly. This is our property, and if you want to go through it, there's going to be a fine to pay."

Realizing what it was that he wanted, Taylor shook her head slightly. "I-I don't have any money." She answered, which was true. She'd left home with nothing but the clothes she was wearing. There had been no reason to take any money with her.

This was apparently the wrong thing to say, because medium scoffed. "Right. But you've got enough money to pay for all those clothes, right? I'm not buying the homeless routine. Nice try. Pay up, or there's going to be a problem." He took several threatening steps forewords.

"R-really, I don't have anything! I didn't bring any with me!" Taylor took a couple steps back, trying to extend the distance between them in case things turned bad.

Medium scowled again, but as he opened his mouth to say something, Small interrupted. "Hey, um, dude? We're going to be late if we don't hurry up. Don't you think we should get going?" The small, and seemingly young man said by the sound of his voice. Looking him over, Taylor suspected he couldn't have been anywhere over 20 or so. He was just short.

Big, still quite bored with the whole situation, took that moment to join in the conversation. "The kid's right. We should get moving."

Medium scowled and glared at them both. "We'll leave when I'm good and ready! Besides, this won't take long. Aki, grab her for me, would you?" Medium turned his head and asked Big, whose real name was apparently Aki. The large man sighed in exasperation, but started walking towards her with the smaller man nonetheless. Small meanwhile just stood where he was, not moving to help nor stop them.

It was at the moment that Big and Medium started their way towards her that Taylor realized just what kind of situation she was in. They were about to search her for money she simply didn't have. She didn't like that prospect one bit.

"W-w-wait! Don't touch me! I'm telling you, I don't have anything!" She exclaimed, backing away as she tried to dissuade them.

Medium only gave a mocking grin. "Then you got nothing to worry about sweetheart. Just let us make sure you're telling the truth, and you can be on your way." Even without the immediate reddening of his strings, Taylor could tell that was a lie. If he found out that she really didn't have any money, then letting her go would be the last thing on his mind.

Her attempts to stop them having failed, it was surprisingly Chimera, who had since been silently watching the exchange from his place on the ground, who then tried next by stepping forewords, raising his hackles and snarling at the two approaching men. Remarkably, it actually worked, stopping the two men in their tracks.

Medium had the sense to at least feel some worry as he stared at the large dog bearing its teeth at him. "Call off your dog, or things are only going to get worse for you." The man warned, a dangerous glint in his eyes.

Taylor, irritated by the man's personality and now pleased to actually have some sort of power over the two men, just shrugged. "He does what he wants. I can't stop him." She answered, forcing herself to take a few steps forewords, until she was standing right beside Chimera, to give the illusion of confidence. Even though she was still afraid of what might happen, she kept her true feelings buried as she crossed her arms and put on what she hoped was a confident smile.

This turned out to be a mistake.

Taylor's deception, no matter how well it may have worked, was just that. A deception. It wasn't real. So when Medium used her steps forewords against her and closed the distance between them quickly, her facade shattered like thin ice. She yelped and quickly backpedalled, though it proved unnecessary when Chimera lunged as well, clamping onto Medium's left arm and shaking his head violently. The man, understandably bothered by the dog currently gnawing its way into his arm, screamed and fell onto his back, giving Chimera a chance to really tear into the downed man's arm.

Big quickly sprung into action grabbing the dog by the collar, yanking it back while also rained down punches on the German Sheppard's head. Chimera didn't let go, but his pained yelps triggered Taylor's motivation to do something. It wasn't right to have Chimera defend her, for whatever reason, and then have him take all the abuse. She knew had to do something, and so leapt into action without so much as a thought about what she was doing.

Running forwards, Taylor punched the large man's shoulder, also grabbing his shirt and trying to pull him away. "Stop it! Leave him alone!"

As fast as a snake, his hand released the collar and instead grabbed Taylor's right bicep with bruising force, making her yelp.

"Ow! Dammit, stop it! Just leave us alone!" She yelled, beating at the man's muscle muscular arm and chest repeatedly with her free arm, only to have it harmlessly deflect off his rock hard muscles. She only stopped when the man squeezed hard enough to make her arm tingle, and lifted her up enough to force her onto the tips of her toes.

"Ow! Ow! Please stop! Just let me go!" She pleaded with the wall of muscle that was supposed to be a man. But her cries had no effect on him, and he continued to hold her as he now emanated red rage.

"You just couldn't do what he said, huh? You just had to make things more difficult." He growled.

Taylor yelped as the man's grip somehow tightened even more. "I'm sorry! Please, just let me go!" Taylor couldn't feel her lower arm anymore. The man was squeezing so hard he had cut off all circulation lower than her bicep, causing a tingling sensation along with the pain. It really hurt, and her mind briefly wondered if he was causing any permanent damage with the strong pressure.

The large man shoved her to her knees, still holding her tightly. "You know, I was originally going to convince him to just let you go after he got your money. But now, I think we'll take you to the boss. I hear he's got a thing for skinny girls."

If Taylor's eyes could have widened, they would be wide and filled with horror. It didn't take a genius to realize what he was saying, and the very thought of what he was suggesting was enough to kick her mind into overdrive. Higher-level reasoning was thrown out the door as her instincts screamed at her to fight back. To retaliate.

Without even thinking about it, she reared an arm back and punched him in the chest again. Only instead of uselessly bouncing off the almost pure muscle, something very different happened.

 ** _SURGE_**

Her arm fizzled, her heart throbbed, her lungs heaved, and her eyes _BURNED_ as it felt like something cold and sharp suddenly opened and began to flow inside her. It felt like liquid nitrogen had replaced all the blood in her veins, icicles had taken the place of her bones, snow had become her new skin, and her heart had frozen over. The unexplainable cold brought with it no shivering or discomfort, nor even a feeling of dropped body temperature. Instead, the odd sensation felt like it had finally filled a long-lasting deficiency she hadn't known she'd been suffering. It was a welcoming chill that could stay as long as it wanted. For it brought with it something else.

Taylor felt the sensation of a cold liquid filling her skull as her left _glove_ seemed to take on a mind of its own. As the glove covering her left fist came into contact with the man, it _STRETCHED_ and _BENT_ and _BROKE_ from its determined shape of a glove into something much different.

The black lines which made of the fabric of the glove extended and stretched forwards, spreading over the man's chest like an ink splatter as he was forcefully pushed away from her. The rapidly stretching strings of the glove carried the man all the way to the entrance of the ally, where he slammed into a large dumpster with a loud boom, crumpling the green metal like a tin can and knocking the man out cold.

All this took place in the span of three seconds.

In that moment, everything around her seemed to freeze. It gave her a perfect opportunity to observe everything happening around her at once.

Firstly, Taylor found herself staring, in dumbfounded shock, at the long braid of withering black strings between her fist and the man lodged in the dumpster. Through her eyes, it looked like the strings which had made up the gloves had simply decided to extend themselves, gaining their extra length from no discernible place. Oddly, it didn't _feel_ any different. The texture and overall sensation of the glove on her hand felt the exact same. It didn't even seem to weigh anymore, despite its obvious increase in size. She really couldn't feel the bridge of strings stretching from her fist.

Taylor watched the lines wiggled in place, reminding her of worms and snakes. Yet their only major movements outside of the bridge itself was from her own movements, swaying with her fist as she shook, struggling to comprehend what she had just done.

Chimera, startled by the sudden noise and movement, released Medium's arm, giving the bloody man the chance to rush to his feet and quickly run away, fear roiling off him in waves. Taylor didn't watch him flee, keeping her eyes locked onto the crater she had somehow just _punched_ a man into.

She blinked rapidly, snapping out of her daze and turned her head as she felt a stream of constant, dense fear wiggle its way into her mind. It wasn't hers. At least, not all of it. Most of it came from Small. The man, unlike his Medium companion, simply stared at her with his jaw hanging open. He stood there for a solid thirty seconds, his string composition a mixture of dark purple and orange with a reeking 'smell' of terror and surprise. For a moment, his eyes shifted to her left, where Chimera was standing beside her, and his entire form was engulfed in what had to be the darkest shade of purple she had ever seen. Not a second later, he turned tail and ran away.

Taylor simply watched him go. Her eyes lingered on his form, layer upon layer of strings building up as he passed several buildings. She soon shook her mind clear, glancing back at the mess she had created.

Hesitantly, Taylor pulled her arm back, watching her 'glove' as she did so.

It came back with her hand, peeling off the man it had been attached to without resistance. Feeling a bit more inquisitive, she gently waved her hand side to side, observing as the elongated strings did the same. The strings didn't sway with her movements, instead remaining rigidly in the direction she pointed them. It was almost as though she were waving around a giant stick, only without the weight.

She couldn't stop a chuckle. "Wow." She said, in awe. It was the most amazing thing she'd seen since losing her normal method of vision. "Am I doing this?" She wondered, quickly berating herself for even questioning it. There was no other form of an explanation around, even as she scoured the area both close and far she found none, so it was obvious that she _had_ to be doing it. Now it was simply a matter of how.

Feeling bold, Taylor opened her closed fist. The spire of strings, just like a hand, split into five pieces. Each one wiggled with her fingers, yet still lacked all resemblance to an actual hand. Though they curved with each point where a digit would be, it was more like tentacles then actual fingers.

Taylor spent a few more minutes testing the 'glove' out, seeing what different shapes she could make. But after those few minutes elapsed and the awe began to wear off, she frowned.

 _"I can't walk around like this. How do I get rid of this?"_ As soon as the thought passed through her mind, her arm tingled.

The strings of her glove began to shrink, loosing their length and, after just a few seconds, returning to the normal shape of a glove on her hand. Looking it over, there was absolutely no sign of the transformation whatsoever. It looked just like it always had. At least in her eyes it did.

Taylor stared. _"That works, I guess."_

{ALERT: PARASITE CONSTRUCT DETECTED}

Taylor jumped, looking up and around. Whatever thoughts she might've had quickly flew out the window however, as at the end of the ally, an enormous, snarling... _Thing_ , came around the corner.

It was then that fear laced through her heart and mind. Her mouth opened slightly at the sudden, very unexpected sight. She'd been so surprised by the sudden show she'd put on for herself, that she hadn't even seen or sensed the creature approaching.

Put simply, it was a beast. A monstrous one. Due to her method of vision she couldn't make out its colour, as unlike Chimera it lacked fur, but was effortlessly able to make out its shape.

Easily the size of a garbage truck, walking on four legs with a long tail, equipped with a mouthful of needle-like teeth, with a short snout like a pitbull, and covered in layers upon layers of what appeared to be hard plates and spikes, the creature looked like a dog which had been dumped in hell, left to rot for years on end, and then spit right back out. If anything ever deserved the title of a Demon, it was this monstrosity.

The beast slowly stalked towards her, snarling and growling with the intensity of an earthquake. Though animal emotions were understandably simpler and less complex than a human, this creature was still carrying no small amount of hatred and irritation for the human that did nothing more than stand before it, paralyzed by her own fear. As it closed in however, this paralysis wore off as self-preservation won her body over.

Somehow managing to tear her own stunned stare off the creature, she turned on her heel and did a full one-eighty. The subsequent dropping of her jaw was completely justified.

Standing directly behind her, sharing an appearance almost identical to the first, was another one of the monstrous dog creatures. It stared at her with a huge pair of eyes, its pupils alone nearly the size of one of her own eyes. Unlike the first, it was not snarling, drooling, or behaving in any way hostile towards her besides a light growling. Had she been anyone else, this would've done little to comfort her. But for Taylor, its true emotions were as easy to read as a book.

It was not anxious, it was not annoyed, and unlike the first monster, it was not radiating rage like a volcano spewing ash. Instead, it was more like a gentle rainfall, with little pinpricks of anger spreading through her mind. In addition to the strange lacking of anger, she detected... Curiosity. It was an almost eager excitement directed at her and-

Taylor turned her head just barely, taking extreme care to keep herself facing the creature, but just enough to turn her sight down onto the untwisted dog beside her. Chimera showed no sign of fear, aggravation, or concern for the creature in front of or behind them. The German Sheppard simply... Stared, with an almost satisfied string composition. Chimera was sat back on his haunches, tongue rolled out and panting happily.

As though it could sense the sheer ridiculousness of the situation, the creature let out a snort. Though a quick measure of its emotions gave no reason behind it, so Taylor decided not to take it badly. Instead, struggling to ignore the snarling behind her and accepting the fact that the creature standing less than five metres away from her was mostly curious, she relaxed briefly and took a few moments to study it.

Much like the first creature, it walked on four legs, had a mouth full of extremely sharp teeth, a pair of large eyes, and was absolutely covered in hard plates and spikes of some unknown material. However, based on how the strings which made up these plates and spikes changed with the creature's emotions, she could tell that it wasn't artificial armour or something akin to it. They were actually a part of the creature.

Taylor flinched slightly as Chimera abruptly stood and walked forewords. The dog walked right up to the enormous creature, reared its head up as high as it could go, and licked the underside of the creatures spiky chin.

Taylor watched, utterly dumbfounded, as the creatures string composition changed from one of serious interest to one of... Playfulness? At face value, the thought of such a large and dangerous looking creature feeling playful towards a small dog less then half its size was complete and utter nonsense. And for anyone else, it likely would have been. Yet, there Taylor was, clearly sensing an eager craving to play. But in its desire, Taylor could sense something else. Something that prevented the creature from reacting to the dog currently licking its chin. She couldn't tell what it was, but it had an almost... familiar sense to it. Like seeing a shattered bottle, and knowing that the single shard sitting several meters from it was a part of the bottle, even though it was a different colour. It was a strange feeling that she couldn't place.

As Chimera continued licking the underside of the creatures long chin she noticed that, unlike the one standing somewhere behind her, this creatures snout was longer. Less blunt and more pointed, like Chimera's. Taylor didn't know what it meant, and didn't have time to figure it out either, because the moment after noticing this difference, Taylor's stomach chose to crawl its way up and hide in her throat as a growl so intense it vibrated the air around her signalled the other creature was now very close.

Hot breath that stank like trash puffed onto her back, making her shiver despite its warmth. She didn't even need to be able to sense emotions to know what the creature behind her was feeling.

Keeping her upper body as still as a plank of wood, she slowly, agonizingly slowly, turned her body to face the blunt-nosed creature.

This one was far, _far_ more terrifying than the other. Possibly because it apparently seemed to like showing its teeth to people and biting the air right in front of their faces, but more likely because it was simply so close. But with all the composure she could possibly muster, Taylor forced herself not to react to the snapping jaws in her face. She honestly didn't know much about animals, but what little she did told her not to run, fight, or give any sign of aggression or submission to an angry animal. Otherwise, they might see prey or a threat.

"Easy there. Nice, um, doggy." She talked gently to the large creature, holding a hand up but not brave enough to extend it from her chest. "I'm not going... Er, I don't want to hurt you." She said, despite knowing full well that she couldn't have hurt the beast even if she wanted to, and that it could easily bite her in half whenever it wished.

Continuing to speak softly, for just a moment, its snarling decreased in intensity. She took a gamble, slowly reaching a hand out.

Her arm didn't even extend a foot before the creature snapped at it. She pulled it back with a yelp, just in time to save her arm from a bite which would have undoubtedly broken it, if not sever it. Taylor quickly took several steps back, feeling her heart drop as she felt her back come into contact with the hard, rough snout of the other creature.

It growled, snapping at her as well, causing her to quickly find an equal distance between the two creatures and stand there with her arms tuck up tightly against her chest. She looked back and forth, glancing at one of the creatures before quickly moving to the next. Currently, they were both emanating nearly equal amounts of irritation and excitement. She chose to take it as a bad sign.

This thought would go on to be reinforced as the blunt-nose creature lunged its head forewords snapped its jaws less than an inch from her shoulder, causing her to involuntarily shriek.

Remarkably, it was Chimera that, once again, came to her rescue. The Sheppard barked at the creature and stepped in front of her, growling. The larger, demonic dog didn't like that, and barked right back. Only instead of an actual dog bark, it sounded far more like a thundercloud or artillery gun going off, actually managing to vibrate the air around her and make her ears ring slightly.

Taylor didn't like what was happening before her. She could tell that, if something didn't change, the creatures would likely become much more aggressive towards her and Chimera, as she could sense that their aggression certainly wasn't decreasing. As risky as it was, she _needed_ to do something. Even if it was something she might regret. It was either that, or wait until they were both torn apart.

Swallowing the fear in her throat, Taylor grabbed Chimera's collar and pulled him back to her side, though the dog resisted her slightly. She wasn't fully sure what to expect, but got a desirable result anyways. Chimera stopped barking and instead settled for a low growl, which in turn caused the creature to respond similarly.

"Good. Easy now. There's no need to fight." She spoke calmly, taking off her gloves and shoving them in her pocket before reaching a hand out for the second time.

Much like the first, the creature snapped at her, and she had to pull her arm back. Only this time, she didn't submit. She slowly reached an arm out again, looking directly into the dog's large sized pupil, unflinching. It growled, eyeing the hand. She saw it's neck muscles tense, warning her that it was going to snap again-

 _ **IMPOSE**_

Taylor shook her head lightly as a sudden dizziness overtook her, and her eyes suddenly felt itchy. Nonetheless, she fought through the light-headed feeling and resisted the urge to rub at the fabric over her eyes, keeping her hand out and palm up, the same thing she'd done with Chimera.

The demonic dog continued to stare at her, shuffling in place and casting off its aggression and confusion. But strangely, just as the dizziness and itch in her eyes disappeared as quickly as it came, the dog's strings slowly began to be consumed by a lacking colour of white. In turn with the colour's appearance, one which she had only ever seen once before in a living creature on her father, the strength of their emotions began to decay. She felt them begin to weaken and fade from her senses, like smoke in the wind. The white started from the noses of both creatures, and slowly worked its way back towards their tails.

Taylor could only watch, puzzled, as it slowly spread through their bodies and, once reaching their midsection, began to turn a calming green. The dogs game no outward sign of their string colour change, except that their irritation and nervous shuffling slowly dissipated, replaced by a sense of serene calm, copying the green colour spreading through them.

Taylor was no idiot, and was able to realize what was happening... Sort of. Somehow, the monstrous dog's feelings were being erased and replaced. The colour of white on their strings was like paper; a blank open space for something to make a new mark on. And the green was simply a feeling of calm that they were slowly beginning to feel, appearing overtop of the white. She had no idea how or why it was happening, but wasn't about to complain. If they were calm then they, hopefully, wouldn't attack.

She waited patiently, her head flipping back and forth between the two creatures until the majority of their forms had been consumed by clam and the white had disappeared. Once that happened, though there were still little swirls of suspicion and confusion mixing through their forms, Taylor decided to take an even greater risk.

Taking a cautious step towards the calmer of the two creatures, still the one with the longer snout, she slowly raised her right hand and held it out.

At first, it simply stared at her outstretched hand with its large pupils that held a certain intelligence to them. After an agonizingly long moment, it took a lumbering step forward. Then another. In just three of its large steps, it had closed the distance between them to less than five feet away. Its enormous head, with jaws large enough to snap her head off with a single bite, inched closer, sniffing the open palm.

Taylor remained steadfast, ignoring the warning growl from the other creature behind her. Even the fear that had begun to build up in her stomach was shoved to the side and forgotten. It may have been dangerous, with a high possibility of failure, but in her gut it felt like the right thing to do.

Finally, in an action that took only a single second, her gamble paid off as a long, wet tongue exited a toothy maw, and licked her hand.

Taylor had to force her face to remain neutral as the extremely rough, sandpaper-like appendage covered her entire hand and a good portion of her arm in warm, sticky slobber. Instead of voicing her disgust, she gave a what she hoped was a friendly smile. "Heh, heh. See? I'm not so bad." She shook her arm to remove most of the saliva, andcarefully scratched at the top of the creature's snout. Just to be safe, she kept her arm tense and her eyes on its strings, just in case it suddenly decided to change its feelings and snap at her for whatever reason.

Despite her worries, after a few minutes of gentle scratching, the creature's entire form had been drained of all its negative emotions. Replaced by calm and pleasurable emotions as it loudly 'purred' under her touch as her hands migrated under its chin. Taylor couldn't keep a smile off her face. "You really are just like a big dog, aren't you?" She asked, more to herself then the creature. Its only response was to 'purr' louder as she increased the strength of her scratches, sounding more like a jet engine than an actual purr.

Now that she had her hands on it, she could tell that the hard carapace it was covered in felt a lot like bone. Though she only had steak and pork bones to compare the sensation to, it really felt like it. Though she obviously had no way to tell for sure without seeing its colour or exact details, and even if she could've that may not be enough. She had no idea if it just looked like bone or if it really was bone. Though as she stared at the huge, deadly creature slowly turning to putty in her hands, she supposed it didn't matter.

Taylor nearly yelped as another large head suddenly nudged her left arm. The other creature maneuvered its large head under her hand and pressed against her side. A quick check of its emotions revealed that the other creature was actually feeling _jealous._ A chuckle escaped her lips and she ran a hand down over its head, scratching behind what she presumed to be an ear. She was rewarded with another low purr, and a stronger pressing against her side.

It only took a few minutes until Taylor found herself pressed up against the side of the alleyway with two enormous animals rubbing their large heads against her body for more scratches. The situation surely would have been humorous if she weren't the one being almost crushed by two creatures easily five times her size.

Chimera, she noticed out of the corner of her eye, was being strangely passive. The dog was simply sitting on the ground, staring at the exchange between the three. Taylor didn't detect any jealousy or want to join. Nor did she sense any upset emotions coming from the dog. Only a curious... Passiveness. Much like calm and satisfaction mixed together with no other perceivable emotions. In the back of her head, something found it strange that the dog was acting that way. One would think he would either want to be pet as well, or would simply leave. It was as though he-

{ALERT: HOST DETECTED}

{ALERT: HOST APPROACHING}

"H-huh?" Taylor's train of thought was derailed as a static-like voice, one she had heard before, suddenly rang in her ears. Yet, she didn't even have a second to think about it as she suddenly sensed two new minds come into range of her senses. They were coming from her right, towards the T in the alleyway that she was in. One she could tell was a person, feeling copious amounts of frustration, anger, and annoyance. The other was an animal which, she noted, held a unique similarity to the minds of the two creatures pressing against her.

There was no time to do anything. No time to push the creatures away, no time to think of a plan, not even enough time to check the status of her disguise as she sensed the two minds come around the corner and turn her way, where they promptly froze.

A simple look was all it took to spot them. The first and most obvious one of the two minds was the large four-legged creature which bore a striking resemblance to the two she was already quite familiar with. It looked almost identical to the long-snouted one, other than being slightly bigger.

The other was a human. Though at first, she had a moment of confusion thinking it was some sort of hybrid as all she initially saw was the face of a dog on the body of a human. It took her a few seconds to realize that the dog face was really nothing more than a mask, and she was able to look through it and meet the wide shocked and confused eyes of the person behind it. Taylor could tell the figure was a female, auburn haired teenager, maybe around her age. She was buff and well-muscled, and had a squarish face that helped contribute to Taylor's opinion that the girl looked quite butch. Beyond that though, Taylor couldn't really get much more from the girl. Not from where she was standing, crushed between two hulking dog-like creatures.

{PARASITE ANALYSIS: CANINE AUGMENTATION}

{PARASITE WEAKNESS: CONTROL LIMITED TO TRAINED CANINES}

{THREAT LEVEL: MODERATE}

For a moment, the two girls merely stared at each other. Confused blind eyes behind glasses and bandages staring into stunned wide eyes behind a mask. Then the masked eyes moved. First to the two large creatures pressing against her, then to the large man sitting in the crumpled dumpster, then down to Chimera, before finally moving back to her.

"... Umm... I-I'm not really sure what this looks like, but it probably isn't what you think." Taylor half joked half explained as the two creatures finally let up on their insistent rubbing, turning their heads to look at the newcomer. As they did, the girl seemed to finally snap out of her daze and issued a sharp whistle along with a snap of her fingers.

Both creatures ears perked up at the sound, and quickly trotted away from her and over to the girl, finally giving Taylor some room to breathe and stretch. One sat in front of the mystery girl, while the other sat right beside her. Both seemed to be feeling a mixture of slight worry, caution, respect, and satisfaction as they stared at the girl, giving off a surprising feeling of submission.

The girl, still feeling shocked, began to fill with a sense of suspicion and curiosity as she inspected the creatures. As she did that, Taylor was able to take a moment to process the fact that said girl was, surprisingly, ordering the creatures around and they were, shockingly, obeying her. But that voice she had heard... It had said something about canines and control. Was that it? Was that what the strange mystery voice had been trying to tell her?

Taylor didn't get to contemplate the possible breakthrough for long, because barely a minute after her personal space had been returned to her, she found it once again violated as the girl stomped up and stood less than a foot from her face. She opened her mouth and uttered a single, muffled sentence.

"What happened?"

Had Taylor been able to blink, she would have. Instead, her mouth gapped open and closed like a fish until she finally found her voice. "W-what?"

The girl's eyes hardened behind the mask, and one of the girl's arms came up to slap the wall Taylor was leaning against beside her head, making her flinch.

 _"What. Happened?"_ The girl growled, sounding more like an animal than a person.

Staring into the girl's cold eyes, feeling her irritation, curiosity, and suspicion flowing into her like a tsunami, Taylor could only gulp before descending into a quick explanation of the previous events.

* * *

 **A/N: So there we have it. Bitch has been introduced, and a new aspect of Taylor's mysterious power has manifested itself after some gang members try to mug her. Now, I'm not fully sure if I got Bitch's personality correct in this chapter, even though there wasn't much of it. There'll be more in the next, but if you have any suggestions on how to make her more accurate to how she was in canon, please let me know. Should she be more human, or more dog? I really want YOUR feedback so I know how to write my story. If I don't get any, I'm writing Bitch in the way I see her as. Nothing really wrong with that, but I want to know what you all want to see.**

 **Speaking of which, I HAVE A CONFESSION TO MAKE: The truth is, a lot of time has passed since I last read Worm. As a result, much of my memory may not be accurate regarding people's personalities or some little details. Plot based detail is irrelevant, since I plan to take this story in my own direction with only a few similarities to canon here and there. The point is, while I am reading Worm again, I really don't have much time to read it all (college and work) and as a result I may get the odd thing wrong here and there. If I do, please correct me, and I will make the correction ASAP.**

 **Please let me know of any possible ways I can improve this story, and of any errors I might have made. I really want to know about them so I can give you all the story you deserve.**

 **That's all for now. Please review and tell me what you think, and as always, I'll see you next time.**


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